Can't Help Falling In Love With You
by Dramione96
Summary: Seventh year brings a new tale riddled with romance, humor, unlikely friendships, unpredictable alliances, and more... What happens when the Head Girl is involved in a terrible accident, and Draco finds himself in a situation that will change his life?
1. A Graceful First Impression

CHAPTER 1

"Hermione, darling, wake up! Your train is departing in an hour and a half, and I know you don't want to be late!"

At the sound of her mother's voice, Hermione immediately leaped out of her warm bed and ran into her bathroom. Picking up her toothbrush, she quickly scrubbed out any muck that had amassed overnight, before splashing her face with cold water. Then, she took off her worn pajamas and stepped into the shower, ready to be greeted by a few of the small pleasures of life, such as standing blissfully under hot water and using shampoo that smelled like jasmine and french vanilla. After about twenty minutes, she grabbed her fluffy towel, dried herself, and then donned her light blue robe before reaching for her wand and tapping her unruly hair.

Instantly, her hair went from looking like something Crookshanks threw up to soft, shiny waves that fell lightly past her shoulders. Grateful that the first part of her battle was won, she padded across her room to her moderately sized closet, looking for something suitable to wear that she hadn't already padlocked into her enormous trunks (although admittedly, about a half of the trunks' content was books). Deciding not to waste too much time on just clothes, she pulled out a pair of tight-fitting khaki capris and a comfortable green tank top with the peace sign splashed on at the front, along with her new pair of white "gladiator heels". Then once again, she faced her bathroom mirror, wondering if makeup was in order this morning. She shrugged before applying the basic eyeliner and mascara, and then she applied a colorless lip gloss which simply made her lips look a little fuller and shinier. When she finished, she stepped back, gave herself a full checkup, and then smiled at her reflection.

_I look good,_ she thought before heading downstairs to her waiting parents and breakfast.

"Hey, kid!" shouted her dad, getting up from his seat and giving her a big bear hug. "How's my girl, Hermione, this morning?"

"I'm doing great, Dad!" laughed Hermione as she hugged her father back and then went over to her mother to kiss her on the cheek. "Well, Mum, what's for breakfast? I'm starved!"

"Then you just sit down, dear, and start eating up those pancakes I made you. Juice or milk?" said her mother as she opened the fridge door.

"Oh, just juice, thanks," Hermione said as she devoured her pancakes with relish. When she started to cough a little bit, her father thumped her on the back until she straightened up again.

"Careful, there!" her father cried. "You don't want to miss out on Hogwarts just because you couldn't control yourself at the breakfast table, do you? Speaking of which, this **is** your last year. I just want you to know that I'm proud of you for making it through these past six years, and that I'm sure that this year, you'll graduate as top of your class, brightest student Hogwarts has ever seen!"

Mrs. Granger smiled warmly at Hermione over her coffee mug. "I second that. But just remember, dear, you're a big girl now, and we trust you to take care of yourself and all that is precious to you. This leads me to say that if you do get involved with any boys, be sure to think wisely about the consequences that can arise from a simple lack of thinking in a possibly heated situation…."

Her speech was abruptly stopped by the identical looks of horror on her husband's and daughter's faces.

"Oh, honestly! As if I wasn't a teenager once!" she huffed before winking at her daughter. "Why, the stories I could tell you about my many conquests…and your father's as well."

Mr. Granger hurriedly cleared his throat, jumped up from his chair, and rushed upstairs to bring down Hermione's trunks. "Be careful, Dad," Hermione called. "Those trunks are a bit heavy!"

"I'm all right, Herms," he puffed as he struggled to load the huge trunks into her small car. "I just need to oil the ol' guns a bit more often, that's all." He stood back, red-faced and exhausted, as Hermione came and pecked him on the cheek.

"Thanks, Dad. I couldn't have done it without you."

"Ah, you just stay safe and get yourself that diploma, you hear me?" her dad said gruffly as he pulled his daughter in for a final hug.

"Darling, are you sure you don't want us to come with you to the station?" Mrs. Granger asked worriedly.

Hermione looked into her mother's kind, brown eyes as she reassured her, "Don't worry, Mum. You know I can drive myself perfectly safely to the station, so don't be so anxious for heaven's sakes! And you know I'll be writing often, so please don't feel like I'm abandoning you or something, all right?"

Her mother sighed before embracing Hermione one last time and then shooing her into her car. "Go, go! You're going to be late!"

Hermione got into the driver's seat, blew her parents a kiss, and then drove off. The last her parents saw of her was her waving hand as she turned the corner.

"Oh, Edward," Mrs. Granger sighed as she laid her head on her husband's shoulder. "I'm going to miss that daughter of ours."

"I will too, Mary," he replied as he gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze. "I will too."

...

Draco looked around the familiar station with a complete expression of boredom on his pale face. Year after year, Platform 9 ¾ remained the exact same: the same old brick establishment, the frantic newcomers running around, and the anxious parents filling their kids' ears with loads of unhelpful twaddle like "Don't forget to feed the Giant Squid some whole-wheat bread!" And of course, there was the puffing black and red Hogwarts Express, his own gateway to freedom.

It was freedom because, contrary to popular belief, his summer hadn't been a very enjoyable one, what with his father bringing home gold-digging sleaze after sleaze as possible "future prospects" and "potential Malfoys", and his mother hosting dull party after dull party, all in the hopes of finding a suitable girl who wouldn't rip her son's life to shreds in the blink of an eye. But that, he supposed a bit smugly, was what one got for being the most sought after bachelor and the best-looking wizard of his age…not to mention that fact that he was worth millions of galleons and his family was one of the most respected in all of wizarding society.

Suddenly, an odd and highly nerve-wracking sound pulled Draco out of his thoughts, and the first thing he registered was that there was something that looked very much like a pug wearing leather hurtling at him at high speed.

"Eeeeee, Drakey-poo!" squealed the pug which Draco unfortunately recognized as the ever irksome Pansy Parkinson. "I've missed you sooooo much these past two months!"

She reached up and hooked her arms around his neck, and then without delay, he was bombarded with a hundred wet kisses being smacked all over his face and neck.

"God damn it, Pansy, GET OFF OF ME!" he shouted as he struggled to throw her off. He could hear the sniggers of those passing by, and felt like flinging Pansy off his chest onto the nearby train tracks. He stopped struggling momentarily as he thought of the ecstasy he'd be filled with if Pansy Parkinson was wiped off the face of the earth, but his bliss was short-lived due to the fact that the loathsome girl, (_Does she even qualify as a girl?_ he wondered), had started to let her hands trail up and down his chest and stomach.

Refusing to ever fall under her stupid spell again, he firmly latched his hand around her wrist and whispered fiercely, "Get lost, Parkinson. I don't care about you and I never will, so you keep your filthy hands to yourself and don't even try to speak with me ever again."

With those words, he dropped her hand and boarded the train, feeling quite good about himself, until he saw who else had just boarded. _Of course,_ he thought maliciously, _it's Pothead, Weasel, and Weaselette. Ah, I'm going to have fun fighting with them this last year…unless Potter actually tries to kill me that is. But where's that Mudblood Granger? _He glanced around into the nearby compartments, but she wasn't there. He shrugged to himself, forbidding himself to care any longer about the matter, before trudging down the aisle until he was next to the last compartment which was labeled Hogwarts' Heads. Thinking bitterly that with his sort of luck, the Head Girl would turn out to be Millicent Bulstrode or some other idiotic freak, he took a deep breath, put on his most intimidating glare, and slid the door open to enter the compartment.

It was there he came face to face with Hermione Granger.

And it was then that he single handedly managed to a) lose his balance as the train lurched ahead, b) pitch forward causing his forehead to slam into Hermione's nose, c) hear the small "crunch" as her nose broke and she screamed into his ear, and d) stumble backwards and do a comical reflexive turn resulting in him smacking his forehead against the door's glass and then falling backwards onto the floor.

Apparently, it wouldn't take marriage-bent parents, obsessive ex-girlfriends, or spats with Potter to kill him, he thought dazedly. Hermione Granger, it seemed, would be enough.


	2. Bound to Be Trouble

CHAPTER 2

Hermione barely managed to register who the hell had just walked in before she saw a shiny blond head zooming towards her face and heard her own shrill scream resound throughout the small enclosure.

"AAAAARGH!" she shrieked as she felt her delicate nose break and saw the first droplets of blood rain down on her attacker's head and her own arm.

Instantly, the boy started and did a ridiculous turn in midair before painfully colliding with door's glass window and lying spread-eagled on the floor. In this time, Hermione's pain was quickly replaced with anger and irritation as she saw **exactly **who it was…her old nemesis and archenemy: Draco Malfoy, The Amazing Bouncing Ferret, The Boy with the Death Eater Dad, the one who could feed a third-world country a whole year with just the money he spent on hair-care products.

Hermione tried to snort as these thoughts rushed through her head, but then the **teensy **little problem of her pulverized proboscis dragged her brain back into action. Reaching up with her wand, she gently tapped her nose and muttered, "Episkey" before slowly getting to her feet and siphoning off the spattered blood on her arm. Then, she turned towards the still prone figure of Draco Malfoy and rolled her eyes, annoyed. The pureblooded idiot's eyes were wide open and he looked like he was saying something to himself, so obviously he was well enough to pick up his sorry ass and plop it onto a seat.

But of course he didn't do that.

_Yeah, just leave that to Healer Granger, always ready to save another pureblood's pathetic ass so that the world can be honored with his presence again. Just effing wonderful, _she thought to herself bitterly.

Bracing herself against the slightly slippery floor, she took a deep breath and then firmly pulled up Malfoy by his arms. When he still seemed a slight bit dazed, she sighed again, this time a bit more gently, before pointing her wand at his chest and saying "Enervate". This proved to be effective because he began to blink rapidly, as if trying to put the world in focus, and then groaned loudly.

Hermione snapped her fingers in front of his face and said a bit loudly, "Malfoy? Malfoy? Can you hear me?"

He responded with an even louder groan.

That's when Hermione noticed the ugly-looking bump on his forehead…no doubt it was from when he'd smashed his face against the glass. Vaguely wondering if she was even doing the right thing by moving to heal his wound, she lifted her wand to his face for what she hoped would be the last time for that day, and mumbled a healing spell that made the bump vanish the moment she'd finished speaking.

Finally, he seemed to understand what was going on. He recognized her face and immediately his face went sour.

"Mudblood?! What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Realizing that her wand was still pointed at his face, she quickly stowed it out of sight before replying angrily,

"I just healed your bloody self-inflicted wound, ferret! Some heartfelt gratitude or even a simple thank you would be nice!"

"Oh, shut it, Mudblood," he scoffed. "The only heartfelt thing I'd ever feel for you is a homicidal urge, and sadly, I haven't yet acted on that urge!"

Hermione narrowed her eyes until they were dangerously squinted. "You little bastard. I wasn't the one who pranced in here like he was a bloody prima ballerina, and I sure as hell wasn't the one who broke an innocent bystander's nose!"

He brightened up at her words. "So I **did **break your nose! Excellent. I was worried that this was all just a good dream."

Unfortunately for Malfoy, he didn't see the raging fire in Hermione's eyes before it was too late. He only heard her cry, "Petrificus Totalus!" before feeling his entire body freeze up. Trying to give her his most terrifying glare in spite of the ridiculous expression he knew was still locked on his face, he saw her give a satisfied little smirk as she stood back and put her hands on her hips.

"Now listen up, you dimwit, and listen well. This year is our last year together, and I'm going to make sure that you don't give me any personal trouble. I know it'll be hard, knowing that you were born an ass and will naturally die an ass, but I'm warning you, for your sake, keep the idiotic behavior to a minimum or else I'll hex you so bad, your fantasies of ever hearing the pitter patter of little Malfoy feet will become total dust!"

And with that, she swiftly turned on her heel away from Malfoy's enraged face and sat down on her seat with a book as if nothing had ever happened. It was there she sat watching gleefully as Malfoy built up his fury, knowing perfectly well that his fingers were just itching to wrap themselves around her throat.

***************************************************

Draco seethed with fury as the Mudblood sauntered away and sat back down in her seat, an infuriating smirk on her face and some stupid little book in her hand.

_That bitch!_ he yelled mentally. _That moronic, aggravating, infuriating, stupid, cheating little bitch! How dare she?! HOW DARE SHE? Wait until I tell my father what she's done…he'll hang her up by her ugly, bushy hair and burn her with burning hot metal rods, and then he'll throw ice water in her face over and over again, and then he'll….._

Due to his indignant mental tirade, he hadn't noticed the sliding open of the door and the entrance of a tall, thin figure.

"Mr. Malfoy," said a sharp and all-too-familiar voice. "Exactly **what **are you doing, sitting there like that, and looking like you have constipation issues? Kindly resume a more suitable expression and posture, as I have important information for both of you."

To Draco's surprise, he found that he could move himself freely and wondered sheepishly exactly how long he'd been free of the Body-Bind before shaping his face into a more normal expression: boredom.

Giving him a slightly withering look, McGonagall began speaking about all the duties and notices that were to be brought to the Heads' attention.

Zoning out the moment McGonagall began to speak, Draco began thinking of all the girls he'd meet and entrance and destroy over the course of the year. The idea gave him immeasurable pleasure: the fact that he had complete control over those foolish girls' hearts, and minds, and **bodies**, and that while Potter might be the immortal "Boy-Who-Would-Simply-NOT-Die", HE was the ultimate and indestructible Slytherin Prince and Sex God. After all, he walked all over girls' hearts, not the opposite. _Just love them and leave them,_ he thought smugly.

The sound of what seemed like a speech being wrapped up snapped him out of his thoughts, and he mindlessly nodded to whatever McGonagall was barking about.

She ended with just a few final tips. "Your quarters are behind the portrait of Wickham the Wise, and the password is 'golostrype'. Once again, while you are permitted to dock points when required, you are NOT allowed to abuse this privilege at will."

Draco struggled to put on an innocent expression as she glowered at him. Behind McGonagall, he could see Granger doing the same, and promised himself to dock at least thirty points from Gryffindor that same day.

As the Professor left in a swish of tartan, he walked over to the Mudblood and gave her what he proudly considered a beautifully nasty grin. "You'd better watch your filthy little back, Mudblood, because from now on, my wand is always going to be pointed at it."

He speedily drew back before she had the chance to break his own nose or something, and left the compartment basking in the glory of his brief triumph. That evening, Granger didn't look back at him a single time. Not when ushering the pesky little first-years towards the Great Hall, not when Dumbledore called them up to declare them as Hogwarts Heads, and not when McGonagall directed them to their rooms.

_Maybe_, he thought with a modicum of relief, _I scared her off for good this time. _

Of course, he never noticed the corners of Hermione's mouth twitching as she stared at his back while he ascended the stairs to go into his room. Nor, of course, did he see her fingering her wand delicately before walking into the bathroom and wrenching open the cabinet where he kept all his personal hygiene products.

Because if he had seen her, the glint in her eyes would have warned him that this evening had only been the calm before the storm.

******************************************


	3. Dragon vs Lioness

CHAPTER 3

The next morning, Draco woke up feeling refreshed and quite chipper. He got out of his soft, warm bed and drew open the curtains to see exactly what sort of day he'd be up against. Thankfully, it was a bright and sunny day, so that meant he could spend some time outside practicing diving techniques on his new Firebolt, and also maybe fix a little "date" for that night with someone watching from the stands.

Now feeling confident and optimistic, he strode into the nicely built bathroom and opened his cabinet where he kept all of his special hair-treatment and body care bottles of ointment. Thinking that starting the day off with a dazzling white smile wouldn't hurt anyone, he unscrewed the lid on his toothpaste and spread it out generously on his (obviously) green toothbrush…his sacred morning ritual had begun.

After about thirty minutes he stepped out, fully dressed and groomed, and saw that Granger was nowhere to be seen. Sneering to himself as he pictured her buried in a musty book somewhere in the dank aisles of the library, he slung his schoolbag over his shoulder and made his way down to the Great Hall's entrance.

The moment he stepped in, everyone went dead silent. Some people who were about to put food in their mouths froze with their spoons or forks still hovering in front of their dropped jaws, while others who were speaking to one another stopped mid-word and craned their heads to keep their eyes fixed on him. Even the teachers ceased motion for a few seconds, their jaws dropping and their expressions turning unanimously into ones of shock. Draco even noticed a small flash of light off to the side somewhere, but figured it was just a ghost passing through or something.

Slightly surprised by the school's reaction, but still incredibly smug about what he knew was a stupefying personal appearance, he strutted over to the Slytherin table and sat down haughtily next to Blaise whose eyes widened more and more with each passing second.

Draco raised a pale eyebrow superciliously at his best friend who was still looking like a fish sucking on a lemon. "What's wrong, Zabini? Never seen anything so good looking before? I admit I haven't either."

Blaise was just opening his mouth to say something, when the Great Hall's double doors reopened and as if on cue, all eyes and heads turned towards whoever had just entered: the Granger girl. She seemed remotely surprised at the steady, unified silence before letting her eyes sweep through the Slytherin table until her eyes fell directly on Draco. First, she let an evil grin momentarily grace her face before dropping to the floor on her hands and knees and starting to shake uncontrollably. Scarhead, (_that_ _damned_ _heroic_ _bastard_), ran over to her and grabbed her shoulders, trying to lift her to a standing position. However, the second he did so, a strong peal of laughter escaped her mouth, and before Draco knew it, Granger, along with the entire school was laughing hysterically, with some so overcome with laughter, they'd fallen right out of their damn seats.

Draco stood up abruptly with his eyes flashing, causing another tidal wave of giggles and snorts to wash over the students, and his angry glare landed on Dumb-Old-Bore, Wienerva McGonagall, and Snape. But if Draco had hoped to gain some sympathy or explanations from any of the old geezers, he was sadly disappointed, because he saw the dastardly twinkle in the headmaster's eyes, the corners of McGonagall's mouth fighting to turn up, and even Snape attempt to disguise a short burst of laughter as a cough.

Determined to find out what was amusing everyone so, he stormed up to the portrait of Wickham the Wise and practically **growled **the password at the chuckling young man. As the portrait swung open, he threw his bag down and sprinted into the bathroom to look at himself in the full-size mirror.

It was then safe to say that had the Fat Lady happened to observe Draco, she would have been proud of his lung capacity, for he held the same blood-curdling yell for at least thirty seconds before falling unconscious at the foot of the toilet behind him.

...

Hermione sat down shakily at the Gryffindor table, her eyes still watering and her sides still aching from the intense laughter Draco's face had sparked. Still chuckling a little bit, she dragged a goblet of pumpkin juice towards herself, hoping a gulp of the sweet drink would calm herself down. Slowly, the Hall itself began to quiet down a bit more, but all around her, Hermione could hear the occasional sounds of laughter as everyone relived what had just happened.

Harry, Ginny, and Ron all crowded around her as much as they could (considering they were all sitting at a fairly large table), and immediately, the questioning began.

"Hermione, did you seriously just see what happened? I've never felt so shocked in my life, I think."

"Oh my god, 'Mione, I have never seen Malfoy look so NOT cute before! What on earth **happened** to him?"

"Bloody hell, I think that that image could seriously become my life's new number one best moment ever! How the hell did it happen though?"

"Guys, guys," Hermione said as she easily gave them little pushes back into their seats. "If you really want to know, you'll shut up and let me speak."

Unconsciously, all three of them leaned their heads in, and Hermione quickly told them that it was she, in fact, who had devised and executed this diabolical incident.

"All right, now listen," she began. "Yesterday, while on the Hogwarts Express, Malfoy strutted into the Heads' compartment just as the train started to move forward, and of course, the twitchy little ferret just **has **to stumble and smash his big, fat forehead right on my nose. Yes," she answered to Ginny's questioning look. "He broke it all right."

Harry looked particularly displeased with this fact, and Hermione correctly guessed why because she knew of Harry's encounter with Malfoy in their sixth year, and how the stinking rat had left Harry lying there on the train, bloodied up, frozen, and invisible. She put her right arm around Harry's shoulders in a friendly manner and then continued with her story.

"So after all this shit happens, involving me pointing my wand at his face and healing a bruise on his forehead that he got from trying to do a damn pirouette, Professor McGonagall enters and gives Draco one of those really hard looks, like 'What the hell do you think you're doing?'. After that, she tells us all the information about Head duties, and so on and so forth, before turning on her heel and leaving. That's when Boy Idiot decides to make his way over to me and say a few supposedly threatening words. Of course, after all that drama, I decided to avoid any sort of contact with him, because one: I really didn't feel up to more sparring that night, and two: because people are always off-guard when they think they've had an early win."

Ginny grinned after hearing this, since she knew that this would be when Hermione struck…when her opponent was overly-cocky and delusional. Hermione returned her grin before Harry urged her to keep going.

"Anyways, so I was weighing all the blows I could administer for a good part of the evening while Malfoy thought I was ignoring him, when finally it clicked! What better way to attack an egotistical bastard who thinks he's the crème de la crème when it comes to looks and grooming than by sabotaging his beauty?"

She paused for a second, immersing herself in the utter perfection of the plan, and then went on, "I stole into the bathroom, which we unfortunately have to share, and I opened his surprisingly unguarded cabinet where he keeps all of his ridiculous beauty products."

"Go on," Ron guffawed. "Tell us some of the names you saw in there."

"Well," Hermione said as she tried to remember the best ones. "There was 'Helga's Hot Hair Helper' which basically made your hair really sleek and soft. Then there was 'Dreamy Creamy – The Best Skin Softening Lotion to ever hit the market, apparently. There were others too, including his toothpaste, "Green Ice" and my favorite, 'Linda's Lush and Lustrous Lip Lover – The Perfect Concoction You Need to Accentuate Those Lips by Making Them Fuller, Softer, and Smoother!"

By this time, Ron and Harry were howling with laughter, while Ginny just kept shaking her head and chortling.

"Let me guess, 'Mione," Ginny said with a wide smile on her red face. "You hexed those ointments and crap so that the effects of your spells would show up only after thirty to forty minutes of use, didn't you?"

"You bet!" Hermione exclaimed as she slapped Neville, who she knew had been eavesdropping, a high-five.

Suddenly, Dennis Creevey, who took after his brother in every possible aspect, rushed up to Hermione and handed her something from his pocket.

"Hermione, Hermione," he chirped. "I-I thought you'd want this. I took it just now."

Hermione looked down at what was in her hands and started laughing crazily all over again. It was a photograph of Malfoy as he was standing in the Great Hall's entrance, and in it, Hermione saw all the effects of her diabolical plan: his white-blond hair had become splashed with a terrible mix of hot pink and black, making his head look like the skin of a diseased or dying cow, and his skin was dyed a ridiculous burnt sort of brown and green. But the finishing touch was the bright red pair of lips that shone even through the photo's slightly faded colors….ah, Hermione had really enjoyed sabotaging his ointments. It made her feel deliciously **bad**.

She turned and gave little Dennis a peck on the cheek, and he left, pink-faced and a little giggly. As she proudly showed her friends the delectable memoir, she felt something nagging in the back of her mind. And that nagging was telling her, that if there was anything she knew about Draco Malfoy, it was that he was not the one to back down in a fight…especially with a Gryffindor muggleborn.

...

In the days that followed, Draco and Hermione tirelessly plotted and planned against each other. One day it was burning homework, the next day it was a "nude charm". Draco would torment Hermione to no end, destroying her schoolwork, dropping food and drinks all over her, and placing dead animals all around her dorm. Hermione would retaliate with embarrassing pictures strewn around the school, exploding cauldrons, and voice altercation spells. It went on and on, until Draco finally felt that he needed to start concentrating for the upcoming Quidditch match, and he spoke one of three words Hermione never expected to hear from him:

"Truce?"

Review please. I know you're all busy, but just a single word or sentence is all I need to keep going. Thanks!

Disclaimer: I own none of this except my own special plot line. J.K. Rowling, lucky woman, owns Harry Potter.


	4. Poised to Strike

CHAPTER 4

_"Truce?"_

Hermione did the squinty-eyed glare thing at Malfoy that was slowly becoming her trademark look. She didn't trust him at all, even though for **once** he wasn't smirking his damned smirk.

"All right, Malfoy, what are you playing at?" she hissed.

He raised an eyebrow. "I thought I just offered a truce, Granger. Hopefully you know what the word itself constitutes."

Hermione gritted her teeth angrily. "I know what it constitutes, you arse. I just don't know what the hell you think you're doing, offering to make peace with someone you and I both know you so dearly hate."

"Well, what else did you think I'd offer to make to you other than a temporary peace?" he retorted. "Love?"

Hermione flushed a slight red and watched with abundant irritation as the bastard started smirking again. Clearly, he was enjoying this conversation, argument, dispute, whatever the bloody hell you pleased. She began to pace around the Head Common Room, feeling suspicious and confused about a certain Slytherin lying comfortably on the loveseat.

"Am I to understand, Granger," Malfoy cut in, "That you **don't **want to have a truce? Perhaps you enjoy our little spats, hm? Yes, that would certainly explain it," he speculated with an air of someone making a great discovery. "You are clearly so smitten with me that you constantly try to catch my attention by starting these fights with me…how very pathetic and heart-wrenching indeed."

Hermione began to splutter indignantly. "I-I…n-no, of course not, that's completely…what are you…"

"Interesting," Malfoy grinned as he got up from the loveseat and walked over to her with all the cunningness and sinuousness of a deadly snake. "What's wrong, Granger? I've never seen you at a loss for words before."

He began to circle her slowly, and Hermione couldn't help feeling that she was somehow becoming an easy prey for him, standing as if transfixed by his voice.

She started breathing deeply in an effort to keep calm and tranquil. "I-I don't know what you're trying to say or prove, Malfoy, but whatever it is, you're wrong! I don't feel anything for you other than a deep and thriving hatred."

He was at her back now and chuckled softly at her defiant words. Leaning in towards her ear, he softly breathed, "So this doesn't affect you at all?"

Hermione felt his breath on her neck and then her ear, and desperately tried to squelch the shiver that was threatening to run up and down her spine. She didn't know how or why she was reacting like this…after all, she hated this boy! She hated him with all her guts and she knew that he felt the exact same way about her. He was just toying with her now; he was just trying to push her into submission like every other girl he'd ever met. Well, she had news for him: Hermione Granger was NOT going to back down.

Malfoy finished circling her and was now standing right in front of her, and unless she wanted to stare into the hollow of his neck, (something that would **not **go down well, she was sure), she would have to lift her head a little to look at his face. Hermione saw him coolly appraising their six inch height difference, and then to her dismay, watched as he took a step closer so that she would have to incline her head even more.

"Tell me, Granger," he drawled as he casually ruffled his hair. "Since you're so obsessed with me and such a fixated bookworm at the same time, I'm sure you must have oodles of notes and records about my stunning physique. So now you're going to have to tell what you think about my features…ah, let's see. What do you think about my hair?"

_That it looks like the most expensive and softest silk you'd ever find in a market,_ she thought privately before voicing something completely different. "It looks like someone smashed a peeled banana on a bunch of toothbrush bristles."

Malfoy snorted lightly before continuing. "All right, Granger. Moving on. What do you think of my nose?"

_Straight and regal…_ "Honestly, Malfoy, I don't **what** to think of your nose. Do you remember your mum ever slamming your face into a door or something?"

"Oh, for Merlin's sake," he muttered. "Fine, Granger, say what you like about my nose and hair, but what do you think about my lips?" He gave her a bigger smirk as if trying to show how far his lips could stretch.

_Damn, that Linda's Lip Lover really does work! They're so soft and smooth-looking…NO, NO, NO, Hermione Jean Granger, you are SO not thinking stuff about his lips! _Hermione widened her eyes a little just to give a small element of shock before fake-examining his lips and exclaiming, "Hello! So that's where the sausages disappeared to from Ron's plate! Jesus, Malfoy, you ought to get rid of those before Fang sees you and jumps on you to chew your lips off for breakfast!"

She saw him give a slight shudder as the gory image probably passed through his mind, and smiled, satisfied.

But apparently, Malfoy wasn't done yet, because this time, his face was hard and he grabbed her shoulders and glared at her. "That's it, Granger. This is one thing you can't possibly denounce! My eyes!"

The gray whirlpools swirled around as Hermione tried to get her bearings. And although the feeling of his hands clamped down on her shoulders didn't give her as much grief as it should, she nervously analyzed the irritation gathering in his eyes. But hey, she was Hermione Granger, and as everyone knows, she always wants to have the last word and the final blow.

_Your eyes are torrid storms that make me want to stare into them all day and night. _"You know what your eyes remind me of, Malfoy? Frozen peas with holes in the middles. Almost like a worm's tunneled through them or something. And you know what," she said as she twisted out of his grasp and walked over to the portrait door. "I'm not sure what you wanted me to admit through this question and answer session. As far as I could tell, honest answers don't seem to please you very much, so maybe this whole discussion was moot anyways, huh? In fact, why don't you go run off to one of your little whores so she can soothe you and kiss away your bad dreams of Big Bad Granger? Then, when you feel up to it again, you can start fucking her like there's no tomorrow!"

She walked out and slammed the door on his shocked and livid face, and was just about to walk away when a final thought entered her head. She reopened the door and saw that Malfoy was still standing there with the same expression.

"Oh, and by the way," she said nonchalantly. "I accept your truce."

And this time, she winked at him before slamming the door shut.

...

Draco strode out angrily on the Quidditch field alongside Blaise who was glancing at his friend worriedly.

"Come on, mate," Blaise cajoled. "You've been acting surly all day, and you won't even tell me what happened. Listen, you can tell me. You know I wouldn't disclose it to anyone, if you didn't want me to."

Draco didn't say anything at first, and just mounted his Firebolt before shooting off to get a good overview of the playing area and his team. A second later, Blaise was beside him.

"Draco, just –"

His words were cut off by Draco who bellowed down, "Oy, Nott! I see you straggling back there! Get up to your goalposts and stay there like you're supposed to!"

"Ok, look, can you just –"

"Roberts, the Quaffle goes **through** the big yellow circles, not underground! Get back to the other side and do the shot again!"

"Honestly mate, not saying anyth –"

"Morris, pick up the pace! I've seen butterflies put on more speed than you!"

Blaise sighed in brief defeat before zooming off on his own Firebolt to practice with the other Chasers. Draco watched him leave with his forehead rumpled in aggravation before putting on a burst of speed on his broom in order to get to the glinting gold ball hovering on the other side of the field.

After practice ended, all the players went into the changing room murmuring about the year's first match just two days away. Draco was sitting on the bench looking over a few diving strategies that he'd felt would be useful, when a little creaking sound to his left announced someone else's presence.

It was Blaise.

Draco sighed and put the strategy sheets to the side. "Look, Blaise. There's nothing wrong, all right? I'm just a bit stressed about the match, that's all."

Blaise looked skeptical before shrugging and saying, "I don't know, Draco. Even before a match, you're not always this mopey, so I'm not sure that this is all just stress. But," he added after seeing Draco open his mouth to argue some more, "I won't bother you about it anymore now. Still, if you feel like letting me know, I'm open."

Blaise got up and left the room with the other guys while Draco sat on the bench thinking. Draco knew that he was being petty and foolish by acting so petulant with everyone, but the reason he was feeling so disagreeable was all Granger's fault!

_I mean, honestly, _he thought crossly. _How many girls have insulted me like that before? And she fucking slammed the door in my face! Really, who the hell does she think she is? And what the hell was wrong with me as well? I was circling her and trying to get a satisfactory reaction out of her, but no, Prudish Granger just has to be all stoic and stony and just stand there not doing anything! _

But then, Draco remembered seeing her tense for a half-second when he'd whispered into her ear, so perhaps all hope was not lost after all. He didn't really want to tell Blaise the real reason he was upset: that he had been slighted by the Gryffindork Prude because she didn't bow down to him like all the other females he'd ever faced.

And what had it been that she'd said? Oh yes, "Why don't you go run off to one of your little whores so she can soothe you and kiss away your bad dreams of Big Bad Granger? Then, when you feel up to it again, you can start fucking her like there's no tomorrow!"

How lovely. She was most definitely the epitome of femininity…**not **.

Draco got to his feet and tossed his shirt on without buttoning it. Not feeling up to much anything else other than a nice long shower, he trudged up to the common room, preparing himself for another fight with Granger.

But she wasn't there. Then he realized that it was a nice afternoon, and that even people with seemingly no lives would have the sense to stay outside and make the most of it. He glanced out the window and saw them, the Golden Trio, with their trousers rolled up and their legs immersed in the lake water. He watched as Potter and Weasley shared identical mischievous looks on either side of Granger, who was sitting in the middle, before putting their hands on her back and pushing her into the water.

She screamed as the cold water soaked her before reaching up and pulling Weasley and Potter into the water as well. They all began laughing and splashing water on each other, and Draco watched as Granger let her hair loose and tipped her head back to laugh. The sun was setting and as the golden rays shone down through the sparse clouds, her hair was suddenly aflame, almost looking as if there were sparks flying from it. And as she heaved herself back onto the grass and dropped to the ground with her eyes closed, Draco found himself examining her toned arms and legs, and the way her neck curved when she tilted her head.

Suddenly aware of himself, he jumped away from the window and shook his head rapidly as if to rid the memory of what he'd just seen. And then, as the sky became streaked with reds and purples and oranges, he turned his back on the beauty of a sunset, and entered the bathroom to take a long, cold shower.

...

On the day of the match with Slytherin against Gryffindor, Draco could feel the energy pumping through his veins as he haughtily strode out on the playing field along with the rest of the team. Although the supporters of Slytherin were not as much as compared with Gryffindor's, Draco knew that when, (_not "if"_), Slytherin won this match, it would immediately have another fourth of the school groveling at his feet.

And so began a testy match that would have both Draco and Harry struggling to improvise on new tactics and strategies, **anything **that would get his own team through to the victory. While Draco's Beaters (Crabbe and Goyle) were surprisingly effective and good, Harry's weren't too shabby either as they matched blow for blow from the Slytherin side and forced many formations to break.

Theodore Nott, Slytherin Keeper, was also working hard to guard his posts, and he'd saved about five of the last eight shots from Gryffindor Chaser, the Weaselette. Draco's Chasers were rushing around trying to find possible openings to free players, and Morris and Roberts had each gotten in two shots each.

But needless to say, it was Draco and Harry who were doing the fanciest and most difficult work of all: chasing after a golden ball that could sit in the palm of your hand while your opponent raced towards it right beside you with murder in his eyes. The two boys swerved and rolled and dove and rose, all to no avail. The damn thing was just too fast.

All of a sudden, the red figure next to him had disappeared, and Draco looked frantically around to see where Potter had gone. Then his eyes landed on scarlet robes fluttering madly in the wind under him, and without hesitating, Draco leaned forward and shot into a full dive towards the sandy ground. Within a few seconds, he was level with the ground and was speeding after the ball with Potter's outstretched arm right beside him. They both tried to knock each other off track, but just as Draco's fingers opened to grab the little ball, Potter leapt off of his broom and caught it while falling.

Draco knew what had just happened, but in his fury, didn't stop going. He pulled the front of his broom up and flew higher and higher, over the trees and the tops of Hogwarts, higher and higher until the sounds of the cheers and screams were lost in the wind.

After about forty-five minutes of random flying, Draco slowly flew back to the Quidditch field and landed in the middle of it. By then, it had started pouring buckets, and the stands were empty, except for one lone figure. Draco tried to make out the person's face through the heavy rain, but it was no use. At first, all he could tell was that the figure was female, but it was only until she was directly in front of him did he recognize her.

Granger.

She was drenched as well, and she looked up anxiously at him, taking in his angry and forlorn appearance.

"Malfoy," she said a little loudly so that he could hear her over the rain. "Malfoy, where have you been? I've been looking for you and waiting here for so long! Are-are you all right?"

He didn't know why he was standing out here in the pouring rain, speaking with someone he supposedly hated, but he was feeling tired and defeated, and didn't want to face the rest of the school just yet.

"We lost," he mumbled, his pride fading away into shame.

"I know," she replied softly. "I was watching."

Draco felt his shoulders slouch and also felt a single tear escape his eye. He wasn't exactly sure why he was crying, but he knew that there was some truth to the saying, "The bigger they are, the harder they fall."

She had seen the tear spill over from his eye, and unconsciously grazed his face with her fingers to wipe it away. The moment she did so, she dropped her hand from his surprised face and whispered, "Sorry."

Then, Draco did something he'd never done before.

"Hermione."

She froze for a heartbeat before slowly rotating her head back towards him. Draco stepped forward, and gently lifted her face up to his before whispering her name one more time, and then leaning down and kissing her.

Hermione relented for a second or two before giving in and rising on her tiptoes to wrap her arms around his neck. He responded by putting his arms around her waist and holding her close to him.

They stayed that way long before they realized that it had stopped raining.

Reviews would be nice. Anything you want to say, just blurt it out. I have to tell you though, I've never written a sex scene before, so in case you're holding your breath for it, I just want you to know that it's gonna come a LOT later if it ever even comes at all. **;)**


	5. Fraternizing With the Enemy

CHAPTER 5

**She's a Mudblood.**

_Oh gods, Draco, not this again!_

**What do you mean? She's below me…everything my family's ever stood for!**

_Oh, and what kind of ideals does your family stand up for, Draco? Torture, power…merciless killing?_

**NO! Not much, at least. And that's not the point! Granger's a taint to my status and my reputation! I have no need for her.**

_But on the contrary, that is very much the point. She is everything you've been brought up to scorn, and yet she just wiped away your tears and tried to console you after your defeat. She had been waiting the entire time for you, even when everyone else had left, and she'd been waiting in the pouring rain for your return…that hardly sounds worthy of such hatred, Draco._

**Yeah, she had a moment of temporary insanity, so what! I'm sure she's up there celebrating Gryffindor's win with all the rest of the goddamned bastards.**

_Don't jump to conclusions, Draco. If what she did for you shows anything, it shows how kind her heart is…because after all the many times you've taunted her and debased her, she still found some goodness somewhere inside of herself to show you some true compassion. Think about it, Draco. Would Pansy have done such a thing for you, for all that she wails about caring about you from the depths of her heart?_

**Uh, well, no…**

_This could be the start to something new! You could get to know her, strike up a friendship with her, and finally redeem yourself in her eyes!_

**HA! Whatever! Redeem myself, you bloody…(loads of mental cursing and muttering).**

_Suit yourself, you dimwit. But mark my words, if anything, this could be the start of a great friendship, IF you do the right thing, that is._

**But – **

"Oh, shut up, both of you," Draco snapped out loud at the two voices in his head. Wait. Voices in his head? Was that normal?

Wanting to revert to a better and more pleasant horde of thoughts, his mind's eye crept back to the kiss he and Hermione had shared. _Hermione._ It felt so strange to say it, just to think it. In all of his years at Hogwarts, he'd always thought of her as Mudblood, Granger, or just that bushy-haired know-it-all who always managed to do better than him in his classes.

But now, he had learned to say her name. _Hermione._ He remembered the way she had stood there in front of him: short, anxious, and genuinely worried about him. The rain had caused her skin to glisten slightly, and although her hair had become a right mess, he'd nevertheless enjoyed his fingers entangled within it as she'd clung to him.

She hadn't said anything when they drew apart. She'd just raised two fingers to her moist lips, as if wondering what she's just done, before looking up into the suddenly sunny skies. He could tell that she was confused, and that she hadn't known what to say.

_But maybe_, he thought now as he dressed for dinner, _Maybe silence is sometimes the best communicator. Because when you're silent, the only thing left to do is to speak with your eyes… and eyes can't lie._

_Hermione…_

_..._

Hermione stood in the shower letting the hot, soothing water relax her tensed muscles, and felt that she didn't quite know exactly what to think or do. He'd kissed her, yes. And she'd kissed back as well. But, did it mean anything?

Was letting an enemy kiss you entirely ethical? Damn it, was he even still an enemy? She'd thought he was, before, but now, she felt like maybe her definition of the word enemy was not the best standard to go by. Yes, they had perpetual hissy fits, and yes, there were times when she'd felt like throttling him (just take a look at what had happened in her third year), but did that make him a total enemy?

She'd fought with Ron before too, and had also wanted to strangle him on many accounts…did that place him in the same category as Draco Malfoy?

_Draco._

"He said my name, you know," Hermione said conversationally to the shower head. "He said it twice: once, just to get my attention, and then once, just before he k-kissed me."

The showerhead kept showering water down on her, like it was supposed to, and Hermione was vaguely disappointed at the lack of girlish squeals and shrieks that would've filled the castle had she told Ginny this. But she didn't want to tell anyone just yet. For now, it would be her little secret, hers and his. And she had to admit, that Linda's Lip Lover thing really worked.

...

Roger Hoffschwitt was interested. Oh, yes, **very **interested. He'd spotted the pretty Gryffindor walking around the library and school corridors sometimes, and he'd always followed her with his eyes for as long as she'd be in the same room. She was a bit of a flirt, he noticed, and she'd toss her hair around a bit if anyone good looking ever came into the vicinity. When she smiled, the lights would reflect off her teeth, and when she laughed, Roger could see the contours of her mouth's inside. Yes, she would make quite a catch when he got his hands on her. Quite a catch indeed.

...

Hermione knew that Draco (_Draco, Draco, Draco_) was still feeling a little down about the Quidditch loss, so she decided not to press the matter of hallway patrolling that evening. Now dressed in simple black sweatpants and a long-sleeve shirt, she didn't feel up to donning the tiresome old school robes again, and so, being sure as to not make any loud noise, she quietly shut the portrait door and began her rounds of the sixth and seventh floors.

While walking cautiously with her lit wand raised, she saw someone in front of her and called out, "Excuse me? Do you have permission to be out of bed at this hour?"

The figure turned, and Hermione saw that it was just Zabini. She knew he had permission because she'd seen him at the prefects' meetings along with Gina Moss, the other Slytherin prefect.

"Hello there, Granger," he said cordially as he ambled over towards her. "You've got sixth and seventh tonight?"

She nodded. "Yeah, Draco didn't feel like coming tonight, so I decided not to give him a hard time about it for the time being."

Zabini raised a questioning eyebrow at her casual use of his name, and she blushed almost imperceptibly before quickly saying, "Oh, we came to a truce, you know, Draco and I. We sort of felt like we were trespassing a bit too far into the realms of childishness, so we both backed off respectfully."

Zabini smiled. "Well, that's good. I **was** getting kind of tired of hearing Draco mutter about revenge techniques all day, so I'm sure it's hats off to you for taming the Dragon."

Hermione smiled at the odd nickname. "The Dragon? Is that what his title for you all is?"

"Well, not officially," he said as they both started walking down the hallway again. "It sort of came into being in fourth year when some witty second-year watched the first Triwizard task and voiced his thoughts about how the Hungarian Horntail was a lot like Draco."

Hermione laughed. "Poor thing. Draco must have pulverized him."

"No, actually, he was quite pleased with the analogy, and started referring to himself as The Dragon whenever he wanted to get with a girl, or whenever he was just feeling plain old pompous."

Hermione laughed again. "Really, Zabini, you know him so well! No wonder you're both such good friends."

"You don't have to call me by my surname," he said surprisingly as he paused for a moment by her side. "You can call me Blaise."

"Well, Blaise," Hermione said cheerfully as she stuck out her hand. "It's nice to meet you. My name's Hermione."

He took her hand. "It's an honor to finally meet the famous Hermione. May I escort you down this here treacherous and maddening corridor, fair lady?"

She shook her head in happy disbelief before linking her arm through his. "You may, good sire, you may."

They both walked on, each with his or her wand in the air, diligently making sure that nothing was out of place, when suddenly a slight thumping sound was brought to Hermione's attention.

"Blaise," she whispered as she and he froze in place for a second. "Do you hear that noise?"

"Yes," he whispered back, looking behind him to see if there was anything going on behind their backs.

"Come on, I think it's this way," Hermione breathed as she quickly made her way to a normally unlocked classroom. She motioned for Blaise to come closer before whispering in his ear, "I want you to unlock the door fast, and follow me into the classroom."

He nodded, before pointing his wand at the lock and mumbling, "Alohomora."

Instantly the lock snapped open, and Hermione burst through the door with her wand at the ready and Blaise at her side.

The sight in front of her was nauseating, but all she registered in that first dim second was that the boy's hands were around the girl's throat. Not hesitating for a second, she slashed her wand through the air and screamed, "STUPEFY!"

With a burst of red light, the spell hit the boy directly in the chest and he flew over a couple of desks before colliding with the opposite wall. Looking back over her shoulder, she saw that Blaise was busy healing the girl's thankfully light wounds, and with a rage that filled her completely, she towered over the stirring boy with her wand pointed at his face.

"Get up." she commanded icily as the boy opened his eyes and began to blink erratically. When he didn't adhere to her words like she expected him to, she flicked her wand and said, "Levicorpus."

The boy yelled as he was swung upside down in mid-air and the blood began to rush to his face.

Hermione fixed her eyes onto his small, blue ones before saying frigidly, "State your name and year and house."

"Roger Hoffschwitt, Seventh, Hufflepuff." he said with a bit of trepidation in his eyes as Hermione regarded him with severe distaste and disgust.

"And what, Roger," she spat venomously, "Exactly what the bloody hell do you think you were doing?"

"I-I was j-just trying t-to…" he stammered nervously as he watched Hermione twirl her wand between her fingers.

"Trying to what?" she asked with all the dangerous calm of someone who is just barely managing to keep his or her temper under check. "Were you trying to teach her a lesson, Roger? Were you trying to make her regret saying 'no' to you? Were you trying to make her feel sorry for not accepting you, hm?"

Roger just hung there, his mouth slightly ajar as her words penetrated the air. Behind her, he could hear the other boy murmuring something to the girl, but he didn't have the nerves or the courage to try to strain his ears under **this **witch's vigilant watch.

"You know, Roger," she said almost conspiratorially. "I think we should teach **you **a lesson. Yes, we should…then you could experience the same thing as that wounded girl lying behind me, except that when I'm through with you, no one will even think to lift a finger to aide you. Doesn't that sound appealing?"

Roger gulped noisily and closed his eyes to brace himself for whatever curse was being thrown his way, but all that Hermione did was flick her wand again, causing him to crash to the floor in a crumpled heap. Then with surprising strength, she picked him up by his collar, pocketed her wand, and then drew back her hand to give him a good, hard slap that left a stinging red mark on his already deep red face.

"Be glad I'm only docking fifty points from Hufflepuff this time. Get out of my sight, Roger Halfwit, before I turn you into the cockroach you so plainly deserve to become." she growled as she shoved him towards the doorway.

He didn't need to be told twice. He ran pell-mell out of the classroom while trying to simultaneously do up the top buttons of his trousers. When he'd gone the only noises were of Hermione breathing hard and the girl's soft moans.

"Hermione," called Blaise softly from where he was still kneeling beside the girl. "Could you come over here please?"

Hermione swiftly spun around and rushed over to both of them, when her eyes fell on the familiar flaming red hair and the small, lean body.

"Ginny!"

Ginny slowly opened her eyes as she heard someone gasp her name. She looked up and saw a remotely familiar face gazing down at her, and then a glance at his robes told her he was a Slytherin. A Slytherin holding her in his arms. Huh.

Feebly lifting herself up into more or less a sitting position, she saw that Hermione and Blaise Zabini were both crouched next to her, both of them examining her face anxiously for a reaction. Ginny reached up to massage her head where there was a tremendous amount of aching.

"Ouuuuch," she groaned.

"Oh, Ginny, babe," Hermione said soothingly as she lightly touched her friend's face. "Are you all right now?"

"I've been worse, 'Mione. I've played Quidditch with six other brothers, remember?" Ginny joked weakly.

"Come on," said Blaise as he got her right arm around his neck. "We've got to get you to the hospital wing."

Hermione nodded as she did the same with Ginny's left arm. Together, Blaise and Hermione supported her as she attempted to stand up, and they held on to her all the way down to hospital wing until they gently put her down on one of the hospital beds.

Blaise went to speak with Madam Pomfrey about the incident while Hermione sat next to her friend and held her hand tightly.

"Gin," she said softly. "Gin, do you think you could tell me about what happened back there?"

"I don't know, Hermione," Ginny replied quietly. "One second I was just walking down the corridor minding my own business, and the next, someone's slammed his hands over my mouth and dragged me into an abandoned classroom. And I'm sure I don't have to explain anymore since you guys found me the way I was."

Hermione's eyebrows joined together in the middle as she remembered seeing Ginny on the floor with her blouse ripped open and her lips and neck bloodied.

"That fucking bastard," she whispered fiercely. "Damn him, damn him, just damn him to hell for all of fucking eternity!"

"Calm down, 'Mione," Ginny said as she patted her best friend's hand. "It's over. He's not going to try to pull a stunt like this again, and I know you've already taught him a lesson as well. Don't brood over it."

Hermione reached over and hugged Ginny tightly. "Oh, Gin, you're so brave. If only everyone had such strength like you."

Ginny chuckled a little before lying back down and smiling crookedly. "So…his name's Blaise now, huh?"

"Yeah, we kind of didn't want to strike up the old 'I'm a Gryffindor, you're a Slytherin, naturally I hate you' thing. He was very sweet, you know. He's the one who took care of all your wounds while I was teaching that arse-hole Hoffschwitt a lesson."

"Hmm, I see."

"You should try talking to him, Gin. He's really decent, not to mention excessively good looking as well!" Hermione waggled her eyebrows suggestively making them both burst into laughter.

At that moment, Blaise reentered the ward and smiled at both of them. "I'm glad to see you both are so cheerful and gay."

Both girls squinted at him suspiciously as he hastily raised his hands in front of his chest and cried, "No, no, not like that! Sheesh! Get your minds out of the gutter!"

They all laughed together, and then Blaise turned to Ginny and said quickly, "Uh, Pomfrey says just to get your rest, the headache will be gone in a bit, and she's already given you a dreamless sleeping potion, so you ought to be well off tonight."

Hermione smirked at his slightly red face before grabbing his arm and pulling him away.

"Good night, Ginny!" she shouted. "Sleep well, and if you need anything, don't hesitate to tell me, all right?"

Blaise gave her a small wave before wrenching his arm out Hermione's grasp and shouting, "Merlin, woman! You don't have to freaking drag me away!"

For some reason, this struck Hermione as extremely funny, and she kept giggling long after she and Blaise had parted ways, and had lain down on her bed that night.

...

The next morning was a bit drizzly and gray, but it found Ginny cheerful and smiling in the Great Hall during breakfast. Hermione strode over to her group of friends and greeted them happily.

"Good morning, everyone! Had a good night's sleep?"

Everyone gave a perfunctory nod or sigh before resuming eating their breakfasts. Hermione glanced at Ginny, asking her with her eyes if she'd told them about the incident from last night. Ginny shook her head minutely and mouthed "No."

A loud clap suddenly quieted the hall down as Dumbledore approached the stand where he gave his speeches from.

"Attention," he called as his eyes swept through the tables over his half-moon glasses. "Could Ms. Granger please come up here, along with Mr. Zabini?"

Hermione got to her feet nervously, exchanging a bemused look with Blaise who had also stood up. She began walking towards the front of the hall as Dumbledore continued on.

"Also, could you all please put your hands together for our newest member of the Hogwarts family, Al –"

Suddenly, everyone gasped. Hermione had tripped over something in the middle of the aisle, and was now sliding very fast, headfirst, towards the golden stand where Dumbledore was speaking. But before anyone could move, she'd crashed into it, and without delay, blood began seeping from out of her curls and spreading across the floor. Her eyes were closed, and her leg was twisted at a peculiar angle.

Instantly, Draco (who had been sitting near the end of the Slytherin table) began sprinting towards her, but before he could reach her, someone else had already gathered her up into his arms…

Thanks to everyone who reviewed, guys! You all are really great! I tried to make this chapter a little longer, so please, make me feel appreciated by adding in your little tidbits. See you guys tomorrow for the next chapters!


	6. Harbingers of Doom

CHAPTER 6

Draco stared at the tall boy whose name he didn't know. The boy was a Gryffindor, he noticed, and he had an Italian look as well. Lean, brown-skinned, olive colored eyes, and of course, possessed with the damned heroic streak that seemed to emerge from Gryffindors every so often. Draco already despised him.

_Wait, why am I sizing up another rival right now?_ Draco thought rapidly._ Hermione's hurt, she needs to be taken to the hospital wing RIGHT NOW! _

The other boy apparently had the same idea because he held Hermione up bridal style, and called in what Draco considered an overly emotional and girly voice, "Please, stay back while I take her to the hospital wing."

The crowd cleared a path for him as he nearly sprinted out of the Hall with Draco right behind him. As he ran behind the other boy, he felt a terrible pang looking at Hermione's dark brown curls now matted with blood. But how had it happened? Who had done such a thing? After all, Draco knew that Hermione was no klutz, so obviously this all had to be someone else's doing. Momentarily blinded by anger, he nearly collided with a suit of armor before turning away just in time and continuing to run down the long hallway.

Both boys then skidded into the hospital wing, nearly giving Pomfrey a heart failure as she gasped and quickly had Hermione set down on the nearest bed. Then she whipped out her wand and passed it up and down over Hermione's body, making a quick and accurate diagnosis.

"All right boys, she's broken her right leg and has suffered severe head trauma." Pomfrey said grimly. "The leg I can fix up in nearly no time at all, but the head part is the part I'm deeply worried about. There's no telling what the consequences of such a bad blow could be. But now," she said not unkindly to Draco, who looked distraught, and the other boy who was intensely staring at Hermione's unconscious face. "Now, you should let her rest. I'll start with her leg, and then I'll wake her up later, when I've reduced the wound area on her head. You can come back later."

"If you don't mind, Madam Pomfrey," said the other boy quickly before Draco could say anything. "I'd like to stay with her, just so that when she opens her eyes, she'll have someone new to see. I'll just sit in a chair, and watch her."

Draco nearly felt like ripping out his wand and screaming "Imperio" at the old lady so she would say no, but unfortunately, he couldn't have pulled it off, so he had to stand there and watch as she gave the other boy a warm smile, (_Oh, I'll give you a warm smile, you smarmy, slimy git!),_ and said slowly, "We-ll, it's fine, I suppose. You may stay. But Mr. Malfoy," she said sternly as she pointed at him. "I'm afraid you're going to have to go back to your classes. A trauma patient is only allowed one visitor in order to reduce disturbance and tension."

Draco clenched his fists tightly at his sides as he turned angrily on his heel and began to stride out of the spacious room. However, he stopped right as he got to the doorway and looked back at Hermione. She was lying there peacefully, her chest rising and falling in a steady pace, and her hands at her sides with the palms upturned. So fragile and vulnerable. So serene.

Furious with himself again for harboring such thoughts, he left the wing and turned left, nearly colliding with Weasley and Potter.

"What did you do to he –" began Weasley hotly, his ears turning the same color as Pansy's most horrendous red lipstick.

"Ron, calm down," Potter said as he stepped in front of the Weasel and looked Draco in the eyes. "Out with it, Malfoy. How is she? Anything serious?"

Draco knew that now was not the time to spark another scuffle, so he answered back in a monotone. "Her leg was broken and she got severe head trauma. Pomfrey told us that the leg would be fixed instantly, but that she's seriously worried about the head injury's repercussions."

Weasley made an odd sort of noise, kind of like a snarl and a groan. Potter seemed to be able to translate it, seeing as the next thing he asked was, "Are there any ideas as to who did it? Any thoughts you might have about someone who might hold a grudge against her from your house or something?"

"I don't know, Potter!" Draco exclaimed exasperatedly. Why didn't they understand that if he knew who it was, he wouldn't be standing here chatting with them, he'd be busting up the arse-hole who'd done it. "And there's no guarantee about the person being a Slytherin either. Nowadays, Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws are getting just as vicious as us."

Potter nodded. "I see."

Weasley made to enter the hospital wing, but was stopped by Potter. "No, Ron, you can't go in there yet. They only allow one visitor at a time in these sorts of situations."

Draco raised an eyebrow. "You know about that?"

Potter shrugged. "Well, I've been in there so many times; it's like a second home now. Might as well learn the rules that go with it. And I'm sure Alexander's fine in there with her," Potter said as jerked his head in the hospital wing's direction. "He seemed very nice."

Draco unconsciously curled his lip. "Alexander?" he said lowly. "Alexander what?"

"Think it was 'Armani' Dumbledore said back there," Weasley supplied with face scrunched up in obviously uncommon thought.

Draco was again simmering in resentment, so without saying anything else, he stalked off, his mind constantly returning to Hermione lying there on the hospital bed. He would find the bastard who'd done this. And when he did, only Merlin would know **exactly **how much hell there'd be to pay.

_Hermione…_

_..._

Back in the hospital wing, Hermione opened her eyes to see a very good-looking, but completely unfamiliar boy gazing down at her. Seeing that she had regained consciousness, the boy smiled a breathtaking smile before saying in a velvet voice, "How do you feel?"

Hermione gingerly moved her legs around and then lightly felt the bandage on her head. "I'm feeling fine, I suppose. There's just a bit of throbbing in my forehead, but other than that, it's all right. If you don't mind me asking, who are you?"

The handsome boy leaned back easily in his chair and grinned. "I'm Alexander Armani. I've just moved recently moved from Italy, and am now settled here in Britain." He held up his red-and-gold tie and said happily, "I'm in your house too!"

Hermione smiled at him, but she didn't really understand what he'd meant by "house". Was this place her house? She couldn't remember it being so cold and spacious.

"Thanks for sitting here, Alexander. But…how did all this happen?"

"I saw it all," he said with a frown. "Professor Dumbledore had just called you and another boy up to the front of the Great Hall, and was about to announce my name as well, when suddenly, your legs completely flew up from under you, and you began sliding very fast towards the stand up front. And then," he said as he looked at the white gauze wrapped partially around her head. "You crashed into it."

"Oh," said Hermione confusedly. "I don't remember it at all."

At that moment, the wing's doors burst open, and two boys burst in: one with a mop of unruly black hair, and one with fiery red hair.

"HERMIONE!" they shouted together.

She jumped back at the combined sound of their voices and then turned to Alexander and asked, "I'm sorry, but do you know who those two boys are?"

...

"No…" croaked Ron. "It-it can't be…no…that's impossible…"

"I'm afraid it's very possible, Mr. Weasley," Dumbledore said sorrowfully.

Harry and Ron were both up in Dumbledore's office, not fifteen minutes after being unnerved to the core by Hermione's innocent question. The instant they'd told Dumbledore about their encounter, he'd swept out of the circular office and hastened to the hospital wing. Within a few minutes, he'd returned and informed them that while Hermione was suffering from amnesia, a complex spell had managed to retrieve all memories of Hogwarts, books she'd read, things she'd done, and magic itself. The only issue was that she could not remember a single person from the world of magic. All of her friends, her teachers, anyone she'd ever met with in Hogwarts had been instantly erased from her memory.

"But, Professor," Harry cried anxiously. "You have to do something! She – she can't just forget us all…forget everything…"

Dumbledore sighed. "Harry, it is a very terrible thing. But it is not incurable."

Ron's eyes widened. "So, she'll be all right?"

"It's possible," said Dumbledore as he walked over to the Pensieve. "All she needs is to relive a powerful memory. It could be anything, anything…but it would be able to bring back everyone she's known for the last six years of her life."

"Thank you, Professor," Harry said quietly. "We'll do all that's possible for her."

Dumbledore sat back down at his desk, and gave the two boys a small smile. "I know, Harry. I know."

Seconds after Harry and Ron left Dumbledore's office, they fortuitously met with Blaise who sighed in relief when he saw the two of them.

Quickly walking up to them, he spoke rapidly. "All right, you two, listen. The other day, Hermione and I were patrolling on the sixth floor, when we'd discovered a disturbance in one of the abandoned classrooms. The source of this disturbance was a Hufflepuff seventh year, named Roger Hoffschwitt, who was trying to rape a girl from your house."

"Which girl?" Harry asked immediately.

Blaise looked slightly uncomfortable and angry at the same time. "Ginny Weasley."

Ron jumped forward. "WHAT? WHAT THE BLOODY HELL DID YOU JUST SAY? MY SISTER WAS GETTING **RAPED**? TAKE ME TO THAT BASTARD, JUST LET ME AT HIM, I'LL RIP HIM TO SHREDS, I'LL FEED HIM TO THE GIANT SQUID, I'LL –"

"Hold it, Weasley," Blaise said calmly as both Harry and Ron began to take deep, calming breaths in an effort to control themselves. "Luckily, Hoffschwitt hadn't accomplished much when we'd gotten there, so while I was healing Ginny's minor cuts and making sure there wasn't any major damage, Hermione was on the other side of the room giving the little rat a good earful. I think she slapped him once before shoving him and telling him to get the hell out of there."

"Figures," Harry said, his face still slightly green from the terrible images he'd created in his mind. "Only would Hermione slap someone and then tell him to get lost."

Ron cracked his knuckles threateningly. "**This **is why we boys should handle this sort of stuff. We know exactly how to deal out the punishment."

Blaise grinned. "Yes. And that's exactly why I was looking for you. Hoffschwitt not only tried to rape your sister, but he's also the one who caused Hermione's accident in the Great Hall. I heard him guffawing about it with some of his friends in the library a little while ago."

"Well, what are we waiting for?" asked Harry vindictively. "Let's go get that shithead!"

"Just one last thing," Blaise said as his dark eyes began to gleam a bit with sparks of ruthless vengeance. "I know Draco loves taking revenge, and I also know that he and Hermione have made a kind of truce. I'm sure he wouldn't want to miss such a good thrashing like this one, now considering it's partially for her sake as well."

...

It was a bizarre sight. Really, it was. Four boys striding down a corridor in a single line, two of them Gryffindors, and two of them Slytherins…and all of them with only one thought in their minds.

_Kill Hoffschwitt._

Blaise had relayed to the other three that Hoffschwitt was currently in the boys' bathroom on the third floor, and luckily for them, this bathroom was one of the lesser used of the castle. As they got closer and closer to the bathroom, they could hear laughter and voices.

"Yeah, I really struck gold with that one," Hoffschwitt was saying. "She was just so damn hot, with that big rack, red hair, and those pale, lean legs spread apart. She might've been trying to push me away, but any idiot could tell she was dying to have me."

Blaise saw that Ron was now practically pawing the ground like an angry bull and gave Harry a warning look that instantly made him hold Ron back by his robes.

"Calm down mate," Harry grunted with the colossal effort it was taking to hold the infuriated redhead back. "Let's just wait for him to admit to the second part."

Another unfamiliar voice was then heard. "Tell us what you did with the Mudblood who tried to teach you a lesson!"

Hoffschwitt scoffed and said with evident malice, "I made sure that bitch paid for the humiliation she caused me. 'Teach me a lesson' my arse! I took revenge on her right with everyone there, even the bloody headmaster, back in the Great Hall this morning. It was a simple slip jinx, but as she fell, I added a bit of acceleration so that the impact would be more memorable for us all."

By this time, all four boys had had enough. Draco brandished his wand and ran into the bathroom along with Harry, Ron, and Blaise. Inside, standing next to the sinks were three boys: two looked like fifth or sixth years, but the one who was leaning easily against the ornate porcelain was quite obviously Hoffschwitt.

Draco glowered at the other two boys and showed them his Head Boy badge. "Get out!" he barked. "Head's orders. NOW!"

The two frightened boys ran out of there, leaving only Hoffschwitt behind looking apprehensive and slightly defiant.

Blaise, the calmest looking one, stepped forward. "Hello, there, Hoffschwitt," he said amicably. "We couldn't help but overhear your anecdotes about yesterday night and this morning. Care to tell us some more about it?"

Hoffschwitt only stared stonily back, trying to project an atmosphere of toughness, but they could all see the rapid pulse beating at the base of his throat.

Draco took a step closer and drawled in a dangerous tone, "Come, come, we don't have all day. We'd like to get back to our lives you know."

When Hoffschwitt still didn't say anything, Harry said lightly, "Why I do believe that maybe he needs a little persuasion to talk. And I believe I have just the thing. Stand back," he whispered to the two Slytherins before letting go of Ron's robes.

It was like a volcanic eruption.

The second Ron was free, he leaped forward with an enraged yell and full-on tackled the startled Hoffschwitt to the ground. He threw punch after punch into the boy's face and shouted a word with each one.

"DON'T – punch – YOU – punch – EVER – punch – TOUCH – punch – MY – punch – SISTER – punch – OR – punch – BEST – punch – FRIEND – punch – AGAIN – punch!"

Hoffschwitt screamed as Ron continued to pummel him over and over again. "Please, please, get him off! Please, please, I'm sorry! I'm sorry, I'm sorry, let me go, please, let me go!"

Draco, Harry, and Blaise looked at each other before cracking identical remorseless grins and saying together, "Nah."

Harry reached over and pulled Ron off of the now profusely bleeding Hoffschwitt who scurried backwards into a corner. All four boys glared down at him, with ice in Draco's eyes, disgust in Blaise's eyes, vengeance in Harry's eyes, and fire in Ron's eyes.

Hoffschwitt whimpered.

Draco pulled him off the floor in one swift movement and grabbed him in a chokehold.

"Are we ever going to get trouble from you again?" Draco asked with a voice not unlike a burst of arctic wind.

"N-no," Hoffschwitt cried weakly as blood ran down from his nose and forehead into his mouth.

Draco threw him to the ground. "Good."

Harry pushed the bleeding boy away with one foot, and then kneeled down next to him. "Don't you ever let us catch you doing something like this again, you understand, moron? Because if I ever hear of you laying a finger on Hermione or Ginny – "

Blaise continued it, " – if you even go within twenty feet of them –"

Ron added, " – if you even **breathe **in their direction –"

" – we will kill you." Draco finished.

Hoffschwitt got up on shaky legs, gave each of them a final, fearful look, and then ran…he ran like hell was behind him. Which, in a way, it was, as Harry, Ron, Draco, and Blaise all stepped out of the bathroom. Two houses, united under a single cause; four boys working together for the first time in their lives.

Oh, yes. This was hell, in all its frozen glory.

Ron.

Blaise.

Harry.

Draco.

…..alliance.

...

When Draco returned to the Head Common Room, he saw Hermione sitting in one of the armchairs by the fire, her nose buried in a book. Her chair was facing the fire, and he knew there was no way she'd not notice him when he would walk by. Blaise and Harry (_Harry? When in fucking hell did __**this **__start!) _had explained Hermione's memory problem to him, and that had made him want to just turn around and murder Hoffschwitt right then and there.

He would've done it too, had Blaise not dragged him back and taken his wand away from him. _He acts like a bloody mother hen._

Now, he wondered what he'd do, what he'd say to Hermione. Would it all be just like before, sworn enemies till the end? Could they undo anything from the past? Was he still the "bad guy" even on a clean slate?

Taking a deep breath, Draco stepped forward on the rug.

Hermione looked up, vaguely confused, before smiling and saying, "Hello! I was told by a kind, old man that I had a roommate. Are you Draco?"

With his throat unbearably constricted, Draco barely managed to nod.

"Well, that's good! My name is Hermione!" she exclaimed cheerfully before going over to him and extending her hand.

Draco looked down at her outstretched hand and then back up at her eager face. His heart pounded as he slowly reached out and shook her small hand.

"Excellent!" she said merrily. She saw his mussed up hair and his rumpled clothes. "Had a rough day?" she asked.

He shrugged and Hermione gave a tinkling laugh.

"You don't talk much do you? It's all right! I'll find out all your secrets sooner or later!"

She winked at him before heading up the stairs and entering the bathroom.

Draco watched her walk up the stairs with a small bandage still on her head. He felt so confused and indecisive…should he talk to her? Should he ignore her? No, he – he couldn't do that. He would have to do something, goddamn it! Look at how much she liked him already! She was probably already considering him as a potential friend.

He sighed as he turned with his head down low and walked through the portrait door. Her last words were still echoing in his ears.

_"I'll find out all your secrets sooner or later!"_

And that was exactly what he was afraid of.

Whew! So, so long…my god, that took me ages to finish. Please review and let me know how it's going. Like it, love it, dislike it, hate it? Anyways, hope you enjoyed, and I'll update tomorrow again. I don't feel like uploading another chapter today, but I will start on it, I promise. Later, amigos!

P.S. Thanks for your reviews. Whether you know it or not, it's you guys who motivate me to keep writing!


	7. Spaces Between Us

CHAPTER 7

Draco had spent the night fitfully; his mind plagued with visions of torture, murder, and many other things that were common to…_Death Eaters._ When his eyes flew open the next morning, he was covered in sweat, and he was breathing a little faster than usual. Sighing and putting his head in his hands, he rubbed his temple with his fingers as he remembered that Hermione would undoubtedly want to meet with him again, and that the more she would be around other students, the more her impression of him would be warped and distorted.

Not wanting to drag himself into the bathroom and do everything manually, he performed two quick charms the equivalent of a rigorous tooth-brushing regime, and a good, long facial. Not that he would have any inkling as to what a facial was; he'd just always heard his mum blather on and on about it and its qualities. Really.

When Draco finally left his room, he heard Hermione animatedly chatting with someone else. It was probably one of her little Gryffindor friends like Harry or Ron or Ginny. _(RON? GINNY? Merlin's beard, I've gone off the fucking deep end!)_ But it wasn't any of them…it was that Armani boy.

Draco's eyes narrowed. Something Armani had just said made Hermione laugh merrily, and with a cold glare at the unwelcome visitor, Draco walked towards them.

"Oh, hello, Draco!" cried Hermione happily on seeing him. Her face was still a bit red from all the laughter, he noticed bitterly, and then he realized with a jolt that she was genuinely happy to see him. As if life couldn't get anymore fucked up.

At the sound of her cheerful greeting, Armani turned to look at him, causing Draco to put on one of his handy-dandy "fuck-you" smirks.

Alexander's eyes narrowed slightly as he watched Draco smirk, but before he could say anything, Hermione cut in, "Alexander, meet Draco, my roommate! He doesn't speak much, but he's still very nice!"

Alexander raised an almost insultingly cynical eyebrow at her remark as she continued on with the unnecessary introductions. "And Draco, meet Alexander Armani. He's very kindly brought me some breakfast, and has been entertaining me with some excellent stories!"

She looked expectantly at Draco as she gestured to an open chair beside her. "Care to join us, then?"

Draco shook his head, trying to look faintly sorry, before glowering at Alexander and stomping out of the common room. Hermione looked a little disappointed as she turned back to look at Alexander.

"Sorry," she said as she looked down into her hands. "I guess he isn't very social. You know, Alexander, it's the strangest thing, but sometimes I feel like I've known Draco for a very, very long time. I mean, I look at his face and I think, 'I know this boy from somewhere, I really know him.' Weird, isn't it?"

Alexander hesitated before saying slowly, "Perhaps you **do **know him, Hermione. Maybe your memory is just a bit…dormant."

Hermione smiled. "Dormant? Hmm, perhaps." She stood up and stretched, not noticing Alexander's eyes lightly trailing up her body as she did so. "Anyways, Alexander," she added. "Thanks for bringing me my breakfast. Merlin knows I was starving!"

"You're welcome," he replied while picking up her plates and heading for the door.

"Say, Alexander," she called just as he was about to leave. "Do you think we could go for a little walk sometime later on?"

He grinned a faint-worthy grin. "Of course we can. Let me know whenever you want, all right?"

Hermione gave him a thumbs-up before heading over to her private bookshelf to find a good book. Alexander frowned as the portrait swung shut behind him. He didn't like leaving her alone in there, with the only other student knowing the password being that Malfoy boy. He'd seen the numerous articles written about the Malfoy clan, and he'd heard the many gruesome tales about their lifestyles and **connections**. No, he didn't like leaving Hermione back there in that private common room.

He didn't like it one bit.

...

Draco chewed his food mechanically with his eyes fixed on his plate and his hands stiffly holding the spoon and the fork. He knew that Pansy was somewhere nearby, probably trying to burn a hole right through his head with her eyes. He'd actually snorted in amusement a few minutes ago when she'd been slobbering over another boy in their year, obviously trying to elicit a jealous reaction out of him. Before she could mentally scar anyone with her supposedly seductive antics, Blaise had loudly said, "All right, Pansy, let the poor boy go, you've terrorized him enough!"

Sure enough, the moment she loosened her hold a bit around her hapless victim's collar, he sprang out of his seat and rushed out of the Great Hall. This managed to keep the rest of the table from retching into their pancakes and toast, (a right hard feat considering that Pansy had been sticking out her lips kind of in the way a chimp does when it's trying to pout or when it's "in the mood"), and Blaise was rewarded with a death glare from Pansy and hoots of laughter from the rest of the Slytherins.

After the mirth died out, however, Draco was back to brooding over what Hermione was doing and if that Armani boy was still with her or not. He knew that so far, Hermione thought well of him, but he also knew that Armani (and the rest of the world for that matter) would have no trouble dishing the dirt on Draco's current "good guy" image.

He felt a tap on his shoulder. It was Blaise.

_Of course, it's Blaise,_ Draco thought irritably. _It's always Blaise. When has it NOT been Blaise? The guy analyzes me like I'm a piece of fucking Arithmancy work! Obviously he's going to try to be sympathetic towards me now, and try to get me to talk, which I won't because __**I **__don't even know what my own feelings are._

"Erm, Draco?" murmured Blaise as he viewed his friend with slight concern. "Draco, you look like you're about to bite my head off."

Draco struggled to rearrange his face into a calmer expression. After all, Blaise was his best friend. It wouldn't do to sever his head **now**.

"Sorry, mate," Draco mumbled back. "I'm just getting sick of Pansy glowering at us…that girl could make a mirror throw up if she tried. No, wait. Scratch that. She doesn't even have to try."

Blaise rolled his eyes. He'd seen Draco in this mood many times before. It was always the same drill: get mad or irritated about something, attempt to hide it from your best friend, and then channel your anger into insults and obnoxiousness. It never worked…for long.

"What's wrong, mate?" Blaise asked quietly.

"I don't know, Blaise," Draco sighed. "I honestly don't know."

"It's Hermione, isn't it?"

Draco blinked. "Er, no. What would make you think that?"

Blaise scoffed as he took in Draco's lightly tinged cheeks. "Well, considering the fact that you made a truce with her, made sure she was taken safely to the hospital, stood up for her, and can't stand it when Alexander is nearby, I would say that clearly there's something different going on with you and her."

"She's lost her fucking memory!" Draco nearly shouted. There was an awkward silence as people's heads swiveled around to look at him. He gave each person a cold stare before he was sure they were all otherwise engaged. "Look," he whispered fiercely to Blaise who bent his head down a little lower. "It's not like I'm mooning after her or something, all right? I've just been thinking that if only people weren't so damn single-minded, I wouldn't have to worry about what everyone's telling Hermione about me behind my back! But…it doesn't matter, Blaise. I'm just being stupid now. Why should I give a crap about what she thinks about me? What is she to me? "

Blaise had rarely seen Draco look so miserable, and he knew exactly what he was talking about. Having an arrogant attitude and a bit of a superiority complex was one thing, but having direct connections to one of the most notorious wizards of all time was quite another arena. These days, it was like you were completely defined by your parents and your background: _Oh, your parents are Healers at St. Mungo's? You must be a perfect angel! *gasp* Your parents were Death Eaters? SHUN THE NON-BELIEVERS!_

Yeah. Something like that.

Blaise patted Draco on the back. "Don't worry, man. I'm sure that Hermione's not the kind of girl who goes off believing anything she hears. I'm pretty sure she's a **tad **bit smarter than that."

Draco grunted something indecipherable as he dropped his head onto the table.

"Hey," said Blaise in an effort to bring some cheer into the conversation. "It's Sunday and we're all being let loose into Hogsmeade. Why don't you go? It'll be a nice change of scenery from this place, and you can go over to the Three Broomsticks and have a nice, warm butterbeer."

"Oog." mumbled Draco not very cooperatively.

Blaise sighed, nearly feeling like slamming his own head on the table. To his relief, however, Draco stopped acting like the living dead and got to his feet. He started to walk away before turning around and saying quietly, "I'll go. But don't wait up for me. I want to be alone."

Blaise nodded before watching as Draco loped away like a drowsy tiger: weary, yet still trying to present himself as the height of power. It was strange what a person would do to try to keep up false pretenses, even when he was completely messed up inside; and it was sad that no matter what his best friend would ever do, no one would ever let him forget that he once had ties to the name of Voldemort.

...

This time when Draco entered the common room, Hermione was lying on the couch, her face illuminated by the perpetually dancing flames. She had her eyes closed and was humming to herself. Draco noticed that her eyelashes were really quite long, and that they rested lightly on her cheeks.

He tried to make his way past her, but she somehow sensed his presence and quickly sat up.

"Draco! It's good to see you! Were you just going out somewhere?"

He looked at the light coat he had on, and then back up at her earnest face. "Uh, yeah."

She clapped her hands as she cried, "Thank Merlin, the boy can speak! Hey," she asked, "You're going to Hogsmeade right? Would you mind terribly if I tagged along with you?"

He raised his eyebrows as a warning signal started beeping in his head. He ignored it. "Why not?"

She beamed. "Why, thank you, Draco! Maybe we could meet up with Alexander too."

Then, seeing his expression, she laughed and said hastily, "Just kidding, just kidding!"

Draco watched as she ran into her room, grabbed a warm coat and a scarf from her closet, and then ran back down the stairs before stopping in front of him. Quickly putting on the coat and scarf, she gave him a brief smile before striding forward and opening the door for him.

He stepped outside with a shocked look on his face. No girl had ever, **EVER** held the door open for him for anything. They'd all been too afraid of chipping their five hundred galleon manicures on the wood.

With Draco making sure as to not walk too closely to Hermione, they both walked forward in silence until they reached the final boundaries where there stood a skeptical Professor McGonagall. Her lips thinned as she surveyed them both before tersely saying, "You may go."

But as the two departed, Draco thought he heard the professor sigh, and he turned to see the elderly woman gazing at Hermione's back with evident concern. Ashamed and discomfited at the same time for reasons even he could not state, he ducked his head into the collar of his jacket and trudged forward with Hermione at his side.

The two of them received a few odd looks from people passing by, but no one dared approach Draco as he nearly shot daggers from his eyes at anyone who attempted to snicker or gasp. Once, Hermione even put her arm through his in an obviously friendly manner, but he flushed a dull pink which caused her to immediately withdraw her arm.

"S-sorry," she mumbled as she avoided his gaze.

Draco didn't say anything, but inside he was yelling at himself. _Damn it, that actually felt nice…fuck me and my bloody pale skin, always making people think that I'm uncomfortable! Gah!_

The two first headed into the Three Broomsticks where Draco boldly ordered two firewhiskeys and a private booth. Hermione, who was standing next to the window, didn't seem to hear his order, so when Draco led her to the private booth with two brimming mugs in his hand, she didn't seem to suspect anything.

They sat down facing each other, and Hermione took a small sip of her drink. Her forehead crinkled a bit as she frowned and then took another sip.

"Is this butterbeer?" she asked as Draco took a swig out of his own mug.

"Ah, yes, it is." he said as he thought, _What she doesn't know won't hurt her._

"Tastes different."

"New flavor," he said she glanced at him with slight suspicion.

In a while, however, both Draco and Hermione had let down their guards and had begun ordering a few more drinks. By their third mug each, both were reasonably drunk, and so began their mostly innocent conversation which was punctured over and over with hiccups from both parties.

"You know, Draco, (hic) I've never had this drink before. It's (hic) quite tasty."

"Of-of course," grunted Draco as he desperately tried not to hiccup in front of a girl. "It's the fire that keeps us going inside (HIC)!"

Hermione giggled madly at his enormous hiccup and his red face, and after moderate mortification, Draco joined in. (Not giggling of course, but just doing some sort of manly, high-pitched chuckle.)

After they both quieted down a bit, Draco unthinkingly said, "You know, you're very pretty."

The moment he said this, he tensed, but all she did was tilt her head and grin at him. "W-why, thanks, Draco!" she hiccupped. "I-I think you're pretty hot too."

She blushed as she saw him smirking at her before asking him, "What's your favorite color?"

"Green," he responded instantly. "What's yours?"

"Actually, m-mine's green too. Emerald, if you want to be (hic) exact."

Draco was intrigued. "Really? But shouldn't you be in love with red and gold like everyone else in your (hic) house?"

"Nah," she said as she waved her hand dismissively. "Red and g-gold isn't the greatest combination in the world, you know, (hic) and they do clash just the tiniest bit. Green is like, (hic) I don't know, a subtle color of passion."

Draco snorted, but Hermione retorted defensively, "It's true! Everyone attributes red to passion, a fiery, insatiable passion. Well, I think green shows a **deeper** passion…a forbidden, stormy passion…a passion envied by the gods."

Needless to say, Draco was slightly stunned by her words, but he asked teasingly, "Have **you** ever experienced this passion?"

Hermione had a faraway look on her face as she said softly, "Funny you should ask, Draco. The thing is, I really do feel like I have felt it before, but – but, I just can't pluck the moment out of my head!"

Draco's eyes widened as he remembered what he was sure she was trying to recall.

_**FLASHBACK: **_

_She had seen the tear spill over from his eye, and unconsciously grazed his face with her fingers to wipe it away. The moment she did so, she dropped her hand from his surprised face and whispered, "Sorry."_

_Then, Draco did something he'd never done before. _

"_Hermione."_

_She froze for a heartbeat before slowly rotating her head back towards him. Draco stepped forward, and gently lifted her face up to his before whispering her name one more time, and then leaning down and kissing her._

_Hermione relented for a second or two before giving in and rising on her tiptoes to wrap her arms around his neck. He responded by putting his arms around her waist and holding her close to him._

_They stayed that way long before they realized that it had stopped raining._

_**END FLASHBACK**_

He now stared at the girl in front of him. She was twirling a strand of her hair between her fingers and looking off into the distance. He saw the steady pull of nostalgia tug at her mind as she bit her lip and tried so hard to remember that moment. A small pain in his chest caused him to look down before he realized what it was.

He'd been told many times before that he was heartless and that there was just an empty hole in his chest where his heart should've been. He'd always tried to act arrogant at the time, acting as if he didn't care what people said, but since then, he'd always been afraid that they were right; that maybe he didn't have a heart after all.

But now he knew that he did have a heart, because it was aching for the lost girl in front of him, and it was breaking as he wondered if she would ever truly recover again.

Thanks for all the reviews, and as AuntLynnie proved with her review, I am VERY capable of making mistakes (as proved with the Roger issue). I only want to say that I did the other two things she mentioned on purpose, but thanks again, AL for helping me out!

To all the rest of you: thanks for keeping me alive with your comments, and please enjoy this chapter as I worked pretty hard on it!

P.S. Check out amzingtofu's story if you want a laugh. It's pretty darn funny and it's called "Ridiculous". :)


	8. A Glowing Camaraderie

CHAPTER 8

After a few minutes of silence, Hermione clasped her fingers together and stretched out her arms over the small table before saying with a sigh, "I suppose we should get going now."

Draco set his own mug aside and then nodded. "Yes, I'll expect you want to go to a few other places before we head back for the castle. No, no," he exclaimed as he watched Hermione pull out her money purse. "Don't even think about it! I'm paying."

She rolled her eyes as she set a few galleons on the table. "Well, sheesh, at least let me leave the tip, Draco."

Now slightly alarmed at his lack of proper grooming and decorum, he leaped up to help Hermione out of her seat on the other side of the table. But, of course, he managed to trip over a slightly raised wooden board on the floor, and instead of helping Hermione to her feet as he had planned, he toppled over and threw Hermione flat on her back onto the (thankfully) cushioned seat.

Instantly, Draco felt like his windpipe was clogged and he couldn't breathe…his entire body was going into total overdrive.

Hermione's warm and startled eyes peered into his own gray ones, and Draco had to really put up a good fight against his impulses as her breath delicately fanned his face. As he inhaled, he could smell the intoxicating scents of her perfume, and a quick glance downwards told him that Hermione was literally trapped between his legs. He opened his mouth to speak, though what he had no clue what to say, but before any words left his mouth, Hermione gently pushed him back, refraining him from making a total jackass of himself.

_What's wrong with me, what's wrong with me! _Draco shouted in his mind as they both hurriedly left the cozy pub following his red-faced payment to old Tom. _What the bloody hell was I thinking? What was I going to do, KISS HER? Am I freaking insane? I swear my name should be Draco Malfuck, I fuck things up so much!_

Neither one of them wanted to face each other for a while, so they both looked at shops on opposite sides as they meandered down the worn main path. Suddenly, Draco saw Blaise up ahead with a fairly short redhead at his side. They were both laughing and trying to surreptitiously trip each other as they walked towards Draco and Hermione.

Ginny noticed the two of them first, and quickly nudged Blaise who also looked up. He smiled sheepishly at Draco first before looking at Hermione, but Ginny stepped forward with her arms open and enveloped Hermione in a hug.

Hermione looked a little surprised, but Draco saw that she hugged Ginny back just as warmly.

Blaise cleared his throat as Ginny pulled back and resumed her position next to him. "So, uh, Draco," he began, "Where have you guys been?"

"Oh, we were just in the Three Broomsticks!" Hermione replied quickly. She then spoke to Ginny. "Have you two been shopping anywhere, or are you just taking a walk?"

"We just wanted to have a nice outing," Ginny said as she watched Draco raise an eyebrow at Blaise who was diligently avoiding his gaze. "It's quite a lovely day, and it feels great to be outdoors. I mean, Merlin knows that Quidditch is fun enough, but with Harry as our leader, it's usually just pure hell!"

Hermione laughed before saying with a certain amount of admiration, "That's to be expected, I'm sure. I mean, considering that his father was such an expert at it, it's only meant to be that Harry is exceptional too. Look at all the trophies and accolades the father and son have won for Gryffindor!"

Blaise stifled a chuckle as Draco rolled his eyes.

Ginny grinned at the two Slytherins and then, without warning, grabbed Hermione's arm and dragged her away to nearby stores, which included Honeydukes, a small Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes shop, and a little bookstore.

Draco was nonplussed for the first few minutes, but as he heard Ginny speaking a mile a minute, he understood what she was trying to do.

"And look, Hermione!" Ginny exclaimed as she pointed at a pile of chocolate frogs. "Don't those look exactly like Neville's toad, Trevor? Poor thing was always getting lost, though, and I can't tell you the number of times we've all had to get down on our hands and knees to look for it!"

Hermione didn't say anything, and Ginny rapidly pointed in another direction. "Look, see, there are those Toothflossing Stringmints you always used to get for your parents. Harry and Ron would always come in here and gorge themselves on Fizzing Whizbees and Drooble's Best Blowing Gum…but I always had a liking for those Chocoballs. Mmmm, delicious!"

Hermione still didn't react in any way, so Ginny decided that Honeydukes was out of order and quickly tugged Hermione over to Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes.

"Ha, ha, those boxes look familiar?" laughed Ginny as she pointed at a bunch of small and brightly colored boxes stacked up neatly on a shelf. "These here are the Skiving Snackboxes that Fred and George perfected and distributed during your fifth year. And ooooh, that stupid Umbridge got exactly what she deserved when Fred and George burst out of Hogwarts and left behind a literal swamp. Why, I can still see that old hag running around in her pink cardigan, yelling orders at Filch as she attempted to restore calm!"

When a few more tries in the shop didn't yield any productive results, Ginny grabbed hold of Hermione's hand and pulled her over to the bookstore.

As the two girls entered the fairly well stocked shop, Blaise and Draco went over to a two-seater bench in front of Honeydukes and sat down.

Draco leaned back and rested his head on the cold stone. He sighed, "Blaise, what should I do? Better yet, what should I be doing?"

Blaise knew what Draco was talking about, so he leaned back as well before saying quietly, "I don't know, Draco. You know just as well as I do that right now, Hermione thinks of you as a friend. Now what you have to establish is do you **want **to be her friend."

Conflicted in his thoughts, Draco decided to voice his worries. He knew that keeping quiet with Blaise would hinder more than help. "That's the problem, Blaise. If Hermione were to retrieve all her memories right now, she would remember what a bastard I am and then she'd go immediately back into the old "I loathe you, you despise me" rut. But now, if I have to thwart her from believing what other people might say and are possibly saying as we speak, I would have to act like her best friend! Hell, I would have to act like I'm in love with her just to balance out my past self and my present self!"

"And is that such a bad thing?" asked Blaise softly as he gazed across the small path into the bookshop where Ginny and Hermione were roaming around in. "Is it such a bad thing to have to be someone's best friend, to be their confidante, their aide? Is she really that repulsive that you can't even afford to help her out a bit when you **know **that she needs you?" His dark eyes did not waver from Ginny's face as she pulled out random books for Hermione and kept up a steady stream of chatter. "Is it really so bad, Draco, to be in love?"

Draco just sat there, speechless, until he followed Blaise's gaze and saw where it landed.

"Bloody hell, Blaise…you…you can't seriously be telling me right now that you've fallen in love! With Ginny!"

Blaise remained silent, but there was a certain stubborn set to his jaw as Draco continued, "You've only been together a few days! How could you possibly think that you're in love? Do you even know what love feels like?"

Blaise whipped his head around and his eyes flashed for just a second before they softened. "I know it's been just a few days, Draco. But there's no requirements when you fall in love with someone; it could take you days or it could take you months. You could fall in love with someone from the time of birth, or you could fall in love with someone after an entire lifetime on your death day. There are no restrictions in love, mate. None."

"But – But your parents, Blaise! What about them? Would they ever approve of you, a pureblood, mixing with her, a blood traitor? How would you present yourself to society? Your name would be tarnished, and she would never be accepted into the other circles, and –"

"Am I to understand, Draco," inquired Blaise calmly, "That you don't approve?"

Draco began to stammer slightly. "No, no, I never said that. All I'm saying is that you should think it out before you do anything else."

"I have thought it out," Blaise said firmly. "And we should close this conversation here since the girls are coming back out."

Draco quickly got to his feet as the two girls approached them. He saw Blaise shoot a questioning look at Ginny, but she just shook her head sadly before pasting a wide smile on her face.

"Well, I'm done for today!" she announced to Hermione's obvious and faintly amusing relief. Apparently she hadn't much enjoyed having her eardrums drilled with perpetual chattering, but Draco also knew that had the same thing happened to Ginny, Hermione would've done the exact same things to help her.

"So," Draco asked slowly. "Can we go now?"

Blaise and Ginny nodded, but to Draco's shock, when all four of them started walking back towards the castle, Hermione broke off from Ginny's side and instead came to walk by him. He looked over Hermione's head at Blaise who gave him a knowing grin, before stuffing his hands in his pockets and continuing to trudge forwards.

He never even noticed it when Hermione got a little closer to him and, very lightly, let their coat sleeves touch.

...

Once they were back in the castle, they all took off their coats and scarves and headed straight for the Great Hall as commanded by their ravenous stomachs. Again, Draco was mercilessly glared at by Pansy, but he took it unflinchingly. _Why won't the bitch just leave me well alone?_ he thought irately as he snatched a couple of sandwiches from the plate in front of him. Then, realizing with a jolt that brainpower was valuable and nonrenewable, he completely dismissed all thoughts of Pansy PMS Parkinson, and instead zeroed in on Hermione who was sitting with Ron, Harry, and Ginny at their table.

She had her hand tucked in under her chin as her elbow rested on the table and she watched Ron as he wildly threw his arms about and tried to reenact something. Once in a while, she would laugh, but the laugh never really reached her eyes. It was more of a cursory reaction; something that she would have to do just to show that she's doing fine. Draco easily recognized her expression. It had been one he'd used many times before himself when he felt disinterested or just confused.

He tried to read Harry's lips as he spoke so that he could find out what they were talking about. Many words slipped past him, but he recognized a few, such as _dragon_, _Umbridge_, _Slughorn, _and _Hagrid. _Draco knew that they were trying to spark some sort of recognition, **anything** that would start Hermione's train of thought. But it was to no avail as one by one, they began losing steam and quietly lapsed into an uneasy silence.

When the lunch hour was over, Draco saw McGonagall briefly stop to talk with Hermione before turning back and speaking with Dumbledore. He wondered what it was about, but his question was soon answered as Hermione approached him and said, "Professor McGonagall would like for us to go up to the Head Common Room now and wait for her. She said she has something important to tell us."

Draco nodded as Hermione waved back at the rest of her friends. They silently left the Great Hall and made their way up to the now familiar portrait of Wickham the Wise. Wickham had heard of Hermione's situation, and his face was clouded with grief for her as Draco mumbled the password and they both walked inside.

Hermione sat down in her favorite armchair next to the fire, and Draco leaned into the corner of the loveseat and stretched out his long legs. Within a few minutes, McGonagall entered the room with a gargantuan scroll of parchment in her hand and a foreboding expression on her slightly pinched face.

"Ahem," she cleared her throat, causing Hermione to look up attentively, and for Draco to sit up with slight apprehension etched onto his face. He didn't like the look of that giant scroll. It could only mean trouble.

McGonagall opened the scroll with a flourish and began reading what Draco considered words of imminent death.

"As you both know," she said in her we've-got-work-to-do voice, "It is nearing Halloween, and as per tradition, we have decided to host a Halloween Ball."

Hermione's face lit up with excitement at this statement, but Draco sank a little lower into his seat and mentally groaned. He **knew** this was going to happen sooner or later.

McGonagall gave him a stern look, as if she could read his mind, before continuing, "Needless to say, you both will be directing and organizing this event, and this scroll has all the requirements for the evening. You will be aided by the prefects with any and all preparations, and you will have to set up everything on Halloween day itself when we close the Great Hall for a few hours in advance. Any questions?"

Hermione eagerly jumped at the chance to speak. "Professor McGonagall, what sort of ball is this going to be? Are we going to want the students to dress in formal clothes, or is this going to be more casual….?"

"Ah, yes," McGonagall said as she straightened her glasses on her nose. "Professor Dumbledore has hinted that he would very much enjoy a costume-themed ball, where couples each adhere to their own ideas, but still complement each other suitably. Which leads me to say," she added with a formidable look at Draco's scowling face, "That you two will be required to enter the Hall together that evening. You will not need to spend the remaining hours in each other's arms, I can assure you that. Therefore, it would be wise for you to find your partners for that evening, and to do it fast. We cannot waste time on trifling matters when we have more pressing duties at hand, now can we?"

"Of course not, Professor," Hermione chirped with alacrity. "Don't worry, we'll be able to handle this perfectly."

"I'm sure you will," McGonagall said as she passed the scroll over to Hermione whose eyes immediately began to blur as she sped-read. "Mr. Malfoy," said McGonagall sharply to Draco who was still showing a lack of substantial enthusiasm. "Bear in mind that this is a team effort. Procrastinating and parasitism will not be favorable in this job at all…especially if I come to hear of it. Hogwarts has always hosted dignified and respectable events, and there is no need for that record to be marred now."

She said a quick "good day to both of you" before trotting out through the portrait door and leaving behind an ecstatic Hermione and a fuming Draco.

"Wow, I can't wait to get started on this!" Hermione cried happily. "Look at all this that we have to do! Band, decorations, music choices and other performances, color themes, seating and table arrangements…this is going to be so much fun, don't you think?"

"Oodles." Draco grumbled.

"Oh, come on, Draco! Lighten up!" she laughed as she grabbed his hand and pulled him down to the floor where she was kneeling with her own set of parchment and quills.

He sighed as he reluctantly sat down next to her and looked at the VERY LONG checklist.

"Hermione, is this necessary?" he groaned.

"Draco, please!" she said with mock exasperation as she began sketching a rough placement diagram for the tables.

"All I'm saying is that we don't need to do everything today! Why don't we just hold off for a bit, and then we can get to work?"

She dramatically rolled her eyes towards him and shook her head. "Didn't you just hear what McGonagall said? 'Procrastinating and parasitism will not be favorable in this job at all.' This is some good stuff we've got, Draco. We should make this event memorable and fun!"

"Okay, okay," he said as he scratched his head. "So, what do you want to start with?"

She showed him her already halfway complete diagram of a table and the way they would be spread out in the Great Hall. He was impressed by her attention to detail and the skilled way in which her quill darted across the parchment.

As she added small fixtures here and there, she explained, "So I was thinking that maybe we should have giant pumpkins as tables. They would be sturdy, aesthetic, and innovative, and they would be firmly glued to the ground so that they wouldn't tip over or anything."

Draco searched his own head for ideas, and then said, "I think we should bring in the band "The Vampires". They've actually gotten very good reviews, and they only come into existence during Halloween."

Hermione scribbled it down with amazing speed on her parchment. "That's a good idea. And maybe we should charm the ceiling so that it'll be just like the 'dark and stormy night' that you always seem to find in horror stories."

"Oh, and one last thing before I tune out," said Draco as an idea popped into his head. "Since it **is **a costume ball and all, why don't we turn it into a competition? You know, with a 'Best Dressed' category, and a 'Most Creative', etc., etc."

Hermione gasped. "Oh my gosh, Draco, that's a marvelous idea! I can't believe I didn't think of that."

Draco tried not to look too pleased with himself as she jotted down some final notes before bundling up her own scroll and tucking it under her arm.

They both stood up with similar content expressions on their faces. Hermione smiled at Draco and said without a bit of inhibition, "You know, Draco, when I first found out that I was Head Girl, I thought I'd have some monster working with me, and that I wouldn't be able to do any of the spectacular things that I'd dreamed of doing for the past six years."

He peered over at her curiously and asked her, "Well, what do you think now? Things going at all the way you planned?"

She grinned. "Definitely. At first, I thought that with a job like this, I'll never be able to make it up to her standards. But now, that's changed."

"Why?"

She took his hand in hers and gave it a gentle squeeze.

"Because I have you."

Hmm, so how do you like it, guys? Not much cussing in this one, right? I didn't feel up to dropping the f-bomb as much today, so yeah…

Anyways, I regret to inform you that for the next three days, I will be very VERY busy with dance recitals, and will probably not be able to update this story. But, I can assure you, I will do my damndest to make some progress on the ideas and chapters whenever I find the time.

Also, thanks to each and every one of you who reviewed and/or put me as a Favorite or on a Story alert. You guys are the greatest. Seriously, just give yourselves a hand. Thanks! And hasta la vista!


	9. Do You Know the Meaning of Love?

CHAPTER 9

Hermione wasn't quite sure how she had ended up back in Hogsmeade that same day, but she felt that it had much to do with the enthusiastic redhead at her side.

"Oh my gosh, Hermione," squealed Ginny as they quickly walked down the path towards the more popular boutiques. "I can't believe the Halloween Ball is already here! I mean, this is the first opportunity I've been waiting for this year!"

"Exactly **what **sort of opportunity do you mean?" panted Hermione as they swiftly turned a corner and began striding down a new path.

"Why, the opportunity to dress up, be gorgeous, and flirt outrageously, of course!"

_Dress up? _Hermione thought nervously. _Oh no, no, no. In no way in hell is she going to get me to go shopping for a dress NOW._

"Ginny," she complained. "I'm not in the mood right now! And really, dresses and gowns are just not my thing."

Ginny rolled her eyes before suddenly grabbing Hermione's hand and nearly hurtling into the most expensive boutique in Hogsmeade.

Hermione could hear her friend gasp softly as gowns and dresses of all sorts came into view, but she herself wasn't as thrilled. She snorted lightly as Ginny turned to her and said, "Herms, darling, as much as I love you, you really need to get going with the feminine stuff."

Hermione scoffed, "I'm a 5'8'' package of woman, Gin, how much more feminine can you get?

"Loads."

"Oh for –"

"Not another word," snapped Ginny as they approached the main counter. "I'm here for work purposes, so you just keep that mouth of yours shut."

Hermione rolled her eyes as Ginny earnestly asked the lady at the counter, "Excuse me, but we'd like some help in choosing suitable costumes for the upcoming Halloween Ball at Hogwarts. Do you mind assisting us?"

The elegant-looking lady, (her name tag read Marsha Hockput), smiled as she briskly led them to a section a bit behind them. "My, my, you two are quite the beauties. I'm sure I'll have no trouble in helping you two to look your best. Now, if you could just tell me what kind of costume you'd prefer…"

"Ooooh, I'm definitely going as a cat-woman!" crowed Ginny as she ran her hands across a number of fur suits. "There seems to be a lack of popularity regarding those creatures these days."

Marsha quickly scanned the aisle before reaching out and grabbing a cat outfit from the rack. Ginny plucked it out of her hands and dashed into the changing rooms. When she emerged, Hermione lightly applauded.

"Wow, Gin, you are one good-looking cat!"

"Yes, those shades of brown and gold complement your red hair very nicely," Marsha tacked on as Ginny blew herself kisses in the mirror. "And your shapely arms are well exposed by the erratically cut designs, not to mention your muscled legs looking excellent in the tight-fitting leg wear. You are, I presume, an athlete, am I right?"

Ginny nodded gleefully. "Yes! I play Chaser for the Gryffindor Quidditch team."

"Well, that would explain it. Now, sweetheart, if you can just change back to your original clothes, I'll be happy to extract some accessories for you after I finish up here with your friend. Now dear," said Marsha as she turned towards Hermione. "Go ahead and tell me what you want to be."

"Erm," muttered Hermione, a little uncertain. "I was thinking along the lines of mermaid, perhaps?"

Marsha nodded and promptly directed Hermione over to another rack that was filled with colorful garments. "Excellent choice. Here, take this one and try it on."

Hermione reluctantly took the bundle from Marsha's arms and entered the cramped dressing room. She faced her back to the mirror as she tugged on the outfit, before turning around and examining her reflection.

She had to admit, she looked good. _Wow…_

The top was like a string bikini top, and the front consisted of cream-colored shells that contrasted softly with her tanned skin. The skirt hung low on her waist, and was a beatific mix of sea-green and turquoise that was studded with innumerable pearls. The skirt also had a ruffle extending from the waist all the way down, and while the front of the skirt had a long V-like opening where another shimmering fabric made up a smaller skirt that was about seven inches above her knee, the back narrowed down into a longer strip that loosely trailed behind her. As the small gemstones and pearls twinkled in the mirror, someone pounded on the door.

"Come on, Hermione!" yelled Ginny's voice. "Don't keep us waiting!"

Slowly, Hermione opened the door and was rewarded with an enormous eye-widening from Marsha, and a low whistle, courtesy of Ginny. Hermione flushed slightly as the two people in front of her stared, due to loss of words to say.

Finally, Ginny shook her head in near disbelief. "Merlin's beard, 'Mione. You, without a doubt, are the sexiest mermaid to ever grace this world with her presence."

"Aw, Ginny, it's not that special."

"Actually, my dear," Marsha cut in, "It is. You are, quite honestly, a thing of ravishing beauty in that ensemble, and let me tell you, that is one outfit many have tried, but none have managed to dazzle with. I really do pity the others attending this ball of yours, because both of you are going to be the centers of attraction that night."

All three of them giggled slightly before making sure they'd gotten everything they needed and heading over to the cashier. Hermione worried just a tad bit about the cost of all her purchases, but one warning look from Ginny managed to shut her up. It was only just as they were entering Hogwarts that night did Hermione remember that McGonagall had owled her that the Heads' outfits would have to related to one theme.

_Oh well, _Hermione thought with a shrug. _I guess Draco will have to be able to dress up like a merman…he can pull off anything._

Of course, Hermione refused to acknowledge the marginally troublesome issue of a date. She figured that she'd cross that hurdle when she came to it.

After all, to a girl whose life has been mainly absorbed by books, world-famous best friends, and innumerable death-defying incidents, a day simply filled with questions and prospects of costumes, balls, and boys would just be too much of a burden.

...

_Three goddamn weeks to go,_ Draco thought miserably as he shoved his completed Potions homework into his bag and flopped onto his now favorite loveseat. _Who the hell can I take to the damn thing?_

Draco began listing potential girls in his head, but each time he considered one for over three seconds, he'd find some sort of flaw.

_Gina Moss? No, the girl's about as exciting as her surname. Maybe she could go with Goyle…Romilda Vane? Ick. She's got more fluff in her head than mum's new mattresses. Chrissy Pillick? Not bad, but she's well known as the girl who keeps a logbook about every minute she spends with a bloke…_

He sighed. Was there no girl alive with brains, looks, and a good reputation? The moment he thought this, the image of Hermione's face formed in his mind and stayed there for a while until he banished it. Hermione had no business lurking around in his head, and he would do well to remember that. After all, he still had to attend to the pending matter of his date for the ball.

It was almost like he'd held up a megaphone and yelled, "I need a date!", because at that moment, the world's most annoying female specimen burst through the portrait door and trilled, "Drakey, I'm here! I just heard the news, and all I've got to say is that you can pick either vampires or fairies, whichever one sounds better to you."

Draco sat up with a look of disgust threatening to spread across his face. "What the bloody hell are you talking about, Pansy? News?"

Pansy gave what she thought was an alluring laugh. Draco fought the urge to retch. "You silly, silly boy," she giggled as she sat down next to him and pushed out her chest a little bit more. "What on earth do you think I'd be talking about other than the Halloween Ball? It's only the most exciting piece of news throughout this castle right now."

"So what do you need me for?" Draco snapped as he discreetly edged away from her.

"Don't be so obtuse, Drakey-poo. You know you've been fairly obnoxious to me so far this year, and I've been taking it rather well. Much better," she sniffed loftily, "Than some of the other nitwits I've seen wandering around in the hallways with red eyes. But I have something those idiot girls don't, you see, and that thing is you, Draco."

Pansy nearly draped herself over Draco and began to let her hands roam downwards until they were dangerously close to an essential part of his anatomy. Draco refused to let his libido have the upper hand, and grabbed Pansy by her upper arms and shoved her away onto the other side of the loveseat.

Pansy pouted, looking uncannily like Draco's great-aunt Esther who had a ridiculous underbite and would always grab him by his ear and make him knit with her. In fact, it was thanks to her that he even knew how to handle needles, but of course, if anyone ever found out, he'd have to kill the person and/or himself. The idea wasn't tempting, so he drew himself back from the idea of suicide and homicide and instead faced Pansy. The situation wasn't much different.

He took a deep, supposedly calming breath. "Listen, Pansy. I told you before: I do not want to be with you anymore. It's over and it's been over for a long time. I don't care what you threaten to do, because whatever you do will only be thrown back at you a hundred times worse. I've had enough of your stupid complaints, and your prejudices, and your repulsive habit of sleeping around with anything that walks on two feet and has a dick!"

Pansy stood there, her eyes beginning to water, and Draco recognized the start of what was sure to be an extraordinary display of waterworks. Not five seconds later, the drops began to plummet.

"I gave you all I had, Drakey!" she bawled. "I always made sure that you would never have to worry about me, and that you were always satisfied. I love you, Drakey, I really do! You can't do this to me **now**, after all these years!"

Draco got up from the seat and stood with his feet apart and his arms crossed. This was his refusal stance, and for all that Pansy would wail, he would not budge, by God, no he would not.

"Pansy, don't make yourself look even more foolish by doing this." he hissed. "I never gave enough of a damn about you to want to worry about you, and the only satisfaction you ever gave me was the fact that if I ever castrated myself, people would be able to take one look at you and understand why I would do such a thing. You're disgusting, Pansy. You're a whore and a slut. You say you love me? Well, I've got news for you: you don't know the meaning of love. Love means that when I cry, you'll stand by and cry for me too. Love means that when I'm angry, you'll come to me and ask me what's wrong and try to make it better. Love means that if I ever want to be rid of the world, the only thing holding me back will be the image of your face. That is love!"

Pansy gaped at him, speechless, and Draco drilled on mercilessly. "You know, Pansy, the first time I ever cried in front of you, last year, you remember what you did? You told me to stop sniveling because I was ruining your concentration as you put on ten pounds of makeup. And then, that one time when I was ranting and raving about how I hated having to torture people and murder them, what did you do? You said absolutely nothing, and went on prattling about Celestina Warbeck's newest affair scandal."

Pansy opened her mouth to say something, but Draco rapidly cut across with fire in his eyes. "But of course, that wasn't the worst part. Oh no, it was not. Let us revisit last year again, the day father tried to recruit me again for his Death Eater plans. Do you recall the fact that I visited you and Blaise in the common room, and told you about what I was going to do, and how scared and vulnerable I felt? I remember mentioning that it would be so much better if I just died, and wouldn't have to face this mess ahead of me. Blaise promptly tried to talk me out of them, the suicidal thoughts. He made me think of all the things I'd leave behind in peril if I were to kill myself, and I believe it's thanks to him that I'm still standing here today. But, Pansy, what was your reaction? Ah, yes, I remember. You looked up with a shocked expression and cried, 'Oh, Drakey-poo, you can't kill yourself! If you die, who will I shag when there's no one else around?"

Draco had imitated Pansy's high-pitched, nasal voice to perfection, and watched with pleasure as she desperately tried to find the right words to say.

"I – I, I'm sorry, Draco," she stammered as he glared down at her with full force. "R–really, I am. I just n-never thought of it that way. I mean, I never r-really thought you'd a-actually feel these things…"

Draco could hear the ice in his own voice as he spoke. "You never thought of it that way, Pansy. That's where the problem lies. You are self-centered, selfish, and an egotistical bitch. Why would you think I wouldn't feel those things, hm? I **am **human, you know, something which is much more than I can say for you."

He could practically see the icicles being driven into her as the words pierced the air. He was feeling no remorse for any pain he was causing her right now. This was all very liberating.

Pansy could tell that Draco was angry, but she took a step closer to him and fixed her face with a simpering look. "Drakey, why are you being so mean to me? Tell me what's really wrong, and I'll see if I can fix it with some natural **gifts** I have."

"DON'T CALL ME DRAKEY!" he exploded as she wore away his last nerve. "THAT'S IT! I'VE HAD ENOUGH! GET OUT OF HERE, PARKINSON! GET OUT OF THIS ROOM, GET OUT OF THIS AREA, AND GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY LIFE! I HATE YOU, AND NEVER WANT TO SEE YOU DARKEN MY DOORSTEP AGAIN! JUST GET OUT!"

This time, Pansy dropped all pretenses and let the tears fall, causing her face to have rivulets of black mascara running down her face as she stumbled out of the common room. Draco turned his back to the portrait door and put his fists to his forehead, when suddenly, a soft voice said, "You shouldn't have said it like that."

He whipped around and saw Hermione standing in front of him with two shopping bags in her hands. She put the bags aside, took off her scarf and coat, and then sat down in an armchair. He glowered at her before stomping over and taking the seat opposite of her.

Hermione called out, "Dobby?"

Instantly, a smallish elf materialized in front of them and bowed deeply. "Miss Hermione Granger and Mister Malfoy," he squeaked fervently. "What would you like for me to do?"

Hermione smiled at the overly-willing elf. "I think we could use two butterbeers, Dobby. If you don't mind of course."

"Not to worry, Miss!" Dobby squeaked hastily before snapping his fingers and causing two butterbeers to appear on the small coffee table.

"Thanks, Dobby."

Dobby bowed again, nearly banging his head into his knees. "My pleasure, Miss," And then with a small crack, he vanished.

Hermione handed a mug to Draco, who took it reluctantly, before taking a sip out of her own. "Now, Draco," she said firmly. "Would you like to tell me more about what just happened?"

Draco narrowed his eyes at her. "How much did you hear?"

"All of it. Extendable Ears are quite effective, you know."

"Then I suppose I needn't explain myself. If you've heard everything, then you'd find it very easy to sympathize with me right now."

"Oh, I know exactly what you meant, Draco." Hermione said sagely as she wrapped her fingers around her warm mug. "But I'm wondering if there's anything else you'd like to get off your chest."

"I don't feel like laying out my life story for you to examine right now, Hermione. I just lost it, ok? That bitch just got on my last nerve, and I exploded, all right?"

She leaned over the table ever so slightly so that he would have to look into her eyes. "Draco, did you see what you did to her? You destroyed her, in an instant. I admit, maybe she's not exactly a paragon of virtue, but I really think you hurt her…badly."

Draco imagined his mug was Pansy's neck and clutched it so tightly his knuckles were turning white. "Ha! Hurt, my arse!" he spat. "All Parkinson needs in her life is her makeup, some galleons, and a loyal boy-toy to keep her going. Well, forgive me for putting my foot down and not letting her have her way with me."

"And put it down, you must, Draco." Hermione said calmly. "However, you cannot allow your temper to run away with you in situations like these. Relationships of any kind are fragile things, and for all you know, Pansy could be nursing a deep grudge for you right now."

"Oh, and I suppose you know this because you're such an expert on broken relationships?" he asked her scathingly. The moment he said it, he regretted it, but she simply looked at him coolly.

"No," she stated matter-of-factly. "I merely use my head."

Draco got to his feet and threw his mug down, spilling nearly half its contents. "Oh, so now you're calling me an idiot?"

He glared at Hermione scornfully before stalking off to his room and slamming the door.

_Deep grudge…yeah, right, as if. Pansy would sooner offer herself to the Giant Squid than break it off with me herself._

It didn't take Draco much longer after that to realize that this idea was entirely plausible. After all, the Giant Squid had a dick.

...

It would appear, the next morning, that Pansy did indeed have every intention of breaking it off with him. Why, she even told him so at breakfast with every pair of eyes at the Slytherin table watching.

"We are through, Draco Malfoy," she announced the moment he sat down. "I've had enough of your constant fury and rudeness, and by golly, I've had enough of your constant yelling. So find yourself some new bitch to fuck, 'cause you sure as hell are not sticking your dick in me anymore!"

And with that, she strode away in a huff, leaving behind a boy who was joyously praising all the gods he could think, much to the amusement of the bystanders.

Later on, Draco met Hermione in the library and was not surprised to see her rifling through various books on Defense Against the Dark Arts. He himself enjoyed reading, but he never took it so far as to make it an obsession, unlike a certain, brown-haired someone. Trying to replicate the way Blaise would lean against a door or a pillar, he posed against a bookshelf and smirked at her. She merely looked up at him, raised an eyebrow, and then turned away to the next shelf.

Surprised by the attitude, Draco tapped her lightly on the shoulder. She turned around, her eyes still on the book.

"Need something, Draco?"

"Er, no…" he tried to think of something witty to say, but failed miserably. What was happening to all his innate charm and charisma? "Found a good book?" he asked lamely.

Hermione considered him evenly before holding out a moderately thick book and saying, "Yes, I do believe so."

Draco glanced at the title: A Medley of Moods: How to Read and Understand Emotions in Even the Most Enigmatic of People. He looked back up at her, smirking, and said sarcastically, "Fascinating."

"It is," she said with her eyes steadily latched onto his face. "I find that it is very useful in figuring people out."

"Am I familiar with these 'people'?"

Hermione shrugged. "Perhaps. There's one, you see, he's really something. So sweet and kind one second, so cruel and harsh the nest. I'm in desperate need to find out his true identity, hence my book-searching quest."

"I'm sure I have no idea who you're talking about." said Draco snootily as he pretended to examine his fingernails.

"I see…Well, then, let me know if you see him. He's kind of hard to miss."

"Sure, but don't get your hopes up about this fellow. He sounds pretty mysterious, and besides, no female can ever hope to understand the male mind."

"How very chauvinistic of you. I'm sure you have your ideas, anyway. Now if you'll excuse me, I have someplace to be. Alexander has asked me out for a walk by the lake, and I found it very hard to refuse. Good day."

She took a step forward, before suddenly seeming to remember something and turning back. "Oh, I almost forgot. McGonagall wants us to match for the ball, and seeing as I've already bought my costume, I'd advise you to look quickly. You should be a merman or something of the like, but please don't attempt to go topless. It's forbidden."

Draco gave her a frosty, crooked smile. "I'll be sure to attend to it."

They both turned their backs on each other and parted without another word, but all Draco could think of was just how much this Armani bloke was bothering him, and exactly how much time in Azkaban it would cost him if he were to make Armani vanish off the face of the earth.

Hello, everyone, I'm back! I'm glad to say that my audience loved me, and that I have also tried to repay all your dedication with a slightly longer chapter. Yes, I know Hermione and Draco are a bit put out with each other, but sooner or later, things will get sorted out…I think. *evil grin

You know, I'm starting to like this Alexander of mine. What would say if I decided to have him kill off Draco and make this story an angsty one instead? **;)** Anyways, review, and let me know how you like it!


	10. Velvet Voices and Difficult Choices

CHAPTER 10

Draco had never been one to suppress natural curiosity, so it wasn't with much hesitation that he cast a Disillusionment Charm on himself and stole after Hermione and Armani. He kept a steady pace behind them, and was thus able to eavesdrop on everything being said.

"Hermione," asked Armani as he took off his coat and threw it by a nearby tree. "I'm sure you've heard about the upcoming dance by now. Have you considered anyone for that evening?"

Draco could already sense where this conversation was headed, and needless to say, he was already seething (although why this was happening, he was not entirely sure).

"Well, er," Hermione replied slowly. "I haven't been thinking about it too much. I mean, I have got to plan the whole thing first before I consider personal matters…but, no. I haven't yet decided on whom I'll be going with."

Armani grinned. It made Draco want to punch him. "Then there's still hope, eh?"

"Hope for what?"

"That you'd go with me."

Draco saw Hermione pause, and Armani also turned and faced her. He began to use what Draco had heard other girls identifying as his "velvet voice".

"You will go with me, won't you?"

"I don't know, Alexander," Hermione said with a hint of uncertainty in her voice. "I'm not exactly a great dancer or very knowledgeable about balls and parties. Maybe you'd have more fun with someone else."

Armani raised his hand and brushed away a stray lock of hair that was in Hermione's face. "You're the only girl I've really noticed here, Hermione. I don't care if you can't dance or if you don't know every type of music the band plays. I'm asking you because I feel like we'd be good together, and because I really like you."

Draco wanted to barf, he really did, but he wanted to stick around long enough to hear Hermione's response.

"I – I don't really know what to say, Alexander." she said.

"Say you'll go with me," he murmured. He picked up her hand and held in his. "Please say yes."

"Even if I do say yes, you must remember that I have to enter with the Head Boy, and that I must save him one dance that night."

Draco saw Armani's face tighten, and he relished the fact that no matter what Hermione's response would be, he'd still have a small hold on her for a part of the ball.

"I have no objection to you dancing with Malfoy," Armani said smoothly. "But I do want you to be the one only **I **hold in my arms after your initial obligations."

_OBJECTION? Who the hell does this git think he is, a fucking saint? I don't care if he's the newest Minister of Magic; he is not going to get me to give her up that easily after just one dance! _Draco thought viciously.

"All right, then," Hermione said to Draco's immense displeasure. "I suppose you've got yourself a date."

"Excellent!" Armani exclaimed. And then, without warning, he leaned down and kissed Hermione on the cheek.

Draco swallowed hard and it felt like he was trying to swallow a boulder. In his anger, he dimly registered that Hermione had stiffened as Armani kissed her, but had then raised her hand to her cheek in slight shock.

Now trying to remember all the human mutation hexes his father had ever taught him, Draco stomped off furiously until he faced the Slytherin Common Room. Muttering the password, ("Salazaar"), he walked inside and threw himself onto the black leather couch where Blaise was busy doing Herbology homework.

Blaise looked up, glanced at Draco's murderous expression, and quickly set aside his homework. "What's up, mate? What's got your knickers in a twist?"

Draco sat down as stiff as a board, and glared into the blazing fire across from him. "How much trouble," he asked in a dangerously steely voice, "Do you think I'd get into if I were to hex Armani's lips off of his face?"

Blaise looked slightly taken aback at this inquiry, but he handled it well. "Uh, I'd think you'd get at least four months straight of detention and also expelled from the Quidditch team. Why do you ask?"

"Because the bastard cannot keep his talons to himself, that's why."

"Ah, I see." Blaise said as he nodded his head, and Draco had no doubt that Blaise really did understand. "So Armani cornered Hermione about the ball, eh? I'm sure he coerced her into saying yes."

Draco conjured up a block of wood with his wand and then blew it to bits. "You bet he did."

"And I'm sure, knowing you, that you stood by in your newly perfected Disillusionment Charm guise, watching and designing new ways to torture him."

The block returned bigger this time, and Draco savored the loud "BOOM" it made as it exploded. "Perhaps."

Blaise sighed loudly and melodramatically. Draco spared him a go-on-bitch-about-whatever-you-have-to-bitch-about look before returning to his block of wood to satiate his affinity for explosions.

Blaise rolled his eyes before using "Evanesco" to get rid of the wood. Thus, Draco's exploding jinx misfired and instead blew up the opposite couch. The room was suddenly filled with falling feathers and Blaise just sat there giving Draco a look which could only be read as painstaking patience.

Draco knew that normally, the two of them would have had a great laugh over something as stupid as what had just happened, but now was a more serious time, so instead of guffawing, he made a sweeping motion with his wand and all the feathers stuffed themselves back into the couch, making the room look normal again.

"Sorry." he grunted.

"It's okay. Now will you just stop messing around and deal with the problem?" Blaise said as he took Draco's wand from his hand and pocketed it.

Draco plopped himself back down, and Blaise took that as a yes.

"Can you tell me something, Draco?" Blaise asked. "What's your relationship with Hermione? Are you two just roommates, friends, or is there something more?"

Draco knew this question was coming sooner or later, but he hadn't given himself the time of day to answer it. He frowned. "I'm not sure, Blaise. One day I feel like she's just someone who I occasionally say hello to, and she says hello back. But the next day, I look at her and I think she's the most wondrous thing ever. I look at all the boys ogling her and I feel so possessive and angry. It's like I don't want her to be with them, I don't want her to seem so beautiful to them, I don't want –"

He stopped because Blaise was staring at him with a most peculiar expression. It was almost like pity and encouragement mixed in together.

Abruptly incensed with himself, Draco got up, grabbed his wand back, and left the common room leaving behind a saddened and somewhat incredulous Blaise.

"You've got it bad, Draco Malfoy," Blaise whispered under his breath. "You've got it bad."

...

Hermione sat down at dinner confused and indecisive. Alexander had been quite sweet to her just a while ago, and while he was incredibly charming (not to mention good-looking), she hadn't felt any flurries of excitement when he'd asked her to the ball. Was that normal? Shouldn't she be intoxicated with his "utter hotness" by now? What was wrong with her?

"Was wong, Wione?" Ron managed to ask through the enormous hunk of chicken in his mouth.

She shook her head to clarify that nothing was wrong and shot him a look of playful disgust, but was asked the same thing by Harry who thankfully took much smaller bites.

"Everything all right, Hermione?" he asked kindly.

She gave a small smile and nodded, but then Ginny arrived and quickly sat down next to Hermione. "Oi, Hermione, what's this I'm hearing about you and Alexander getting together for the ball?"

Hermione blushed as Ron and Harry stopped chewing and began to stare at her. "We're just going as friends, Ginny. He asked me a while ago while we were talking our walk, and I wasn't very sure at first, but I said yes in the end."

"Oh, he's so handsome, isn't he?" asked Ginny eagerly. "I mean, have you seen the way he gets a dimple in only one cheek when he smiles, and the way his hair always looks so thick and soft…"

"Ginny!" Hermione exclaimed, forgetting who she was sitting with for a bit. "You have a boyfriend!"

"Excuse me?" sputtered Ron as he nearly spewed half of his pumpkin juice across the table. "I'm sorry, Hermione, what did you just say?"

Ginny glared at Hermione as if to say, "Now you've done it" before turning towards Ron and saying stubbornly, "I'm currently dating Blaise Zabini."

"Blaise Zabini?" asked Harry with evident amazement. "You're honestly going out with Blaise?"

Ginny tossed her hair. "Yes, I am!"

Ron began to turn a light shade of red. "But – but he's a –"

This time, Hermione was the one who spoke resolutely. "Don't you dare say she can't date him because he's a Slytherin, Ronald Weasley! I'll have you know that it was Blaise who healed Ginny that night we were patrolling, and it was him and Ginny that Draco and I bumped into the other day in Hogsmeade."

Ron frowned down into his chocolate pudding, but Harry quickly put up his hands in a mark of surrender. "Okay, okay, you two! You don't have to bite off our heads, all right? We know that Blaise was a good guy because he was with us that day when we beat up Hoffschwitt in the bathroom."

Ginny relaxed her shoulders in relief. "Fine. So now that you two are perfectly happy with my new boyfriend, do you mind letting me and Hermione discuss the ball?"

Hermione groaned, but Harry chuckled and said, "Be my guest."

Ginny spun around in her seat and started executing all the dramatics involved when a teenaged girl gushes about an upcoming ball. "Oh my gosh, Herms, did I tell you that I found the perfect outfit for Blaise? I mean, you were there when we bought my cat girl costume, and it didn't cross either of our minds that Blaise would have to match up with mine somehow, but that problem was fixed just the other day when I dragged him over to another store and got him to choose one that he liked. So now guess what he is?"

Hermione told her that she had absolutely no clue.

"He's going as a lion!" Ginny squealed as Hermione raised her eyebrows at the thought of the Slytherin boy dressing up as the king of the jungle.

"Wow. Um. That sounds really cool, Gin."

"It is! He's going to have a crown on his head, and a nice bushy tail and everything!"

"Sounds great."

"Hey, wait," said Ginny as she began to direct her focus back to Hermione again. "What is Alexander dressing up as?"

Hermione shrugged. "I don't know. I think I mentioned to him once sometime ago that I'm going as a mermaid. He hasn't let me know what he's going as yet."

Ginny sighed in mock misery. "Sheesh, 'Mione. You're so lucky…you get both Draco and Alexander in the same night. Too bad your bed won't be able to hold the weight of three!"

"GINNY!" Hermione shouted as she smacked her madly giggling friend with her book.

Ron and Harry very graciously acted as though they hadn't heard the last bit, but the fork Harry was squeezing mercilessly in his hand and the two bright red beacons that were better known as Ron's ears gave them away.

...

Draco had not a single inkling as to what he was up to, but right then, all he wanted was a distraction. And so, plucking up the bare minimum of courage required to ask out a girl who'd lick his shoes if he asked her to, he set out to find Daphne Greengrass.

It wasn't that hard to find her. After all, all one had to do was look for a somewhat attractive girl with scores of boys around her, and whoop! There she was! Draco had had a fling with her once, but after the first terrific night, he got bored and immediately dumped her, much to her dismay. The result was that she never really spoke to him again, even though he knew at times she'd eye him like a manic jackal eyed a hunk of meat out of its reach.

Of course, he had every reason to understand that he **was **one undeniably sexy piece of flesh, but the constant staring unnerved him. Just a little.

Sauntering over to her with not a hint of recollection about past incidents in his expression, he ruffled his hair lightly in front of her and drawled, "Hey there, Daphne? Want to go to the ball with me?"

He could see any walls she'd initially put up already crumbling down, and smirked. Life was so easy when everyone acted like a hormonal girl: easy to knock down, easy to overpower, and easy to leave.

"I don't know, Draco," she said in an overly-breathy voice. "What's in it to really tempt me?"

She emphasized the movement of her lips on the word "tempt", and Draco noticed with just a modicum of unease that many of the guys crowding around her were now glaring at him. He forced himself to continue smirking and vaguely thought of how cheap Daphne was compared to Hermione. But then, he wasn't here to think about Hermione, was he? No, he was here for a distraction. And there it was, standing in front of him, obsessively wetting her lips and batting her eyelashes.

Draco groaned inwardly before turning on his sexy voice and growling, "Hmm, let's see. You've got a 6'2'' devilishly handsome guy standing in front of you and asking you to a ball, and you ask me what's tempting in it? Obviously you're not as well-informed as I thought." He leaned down and whispered in her ear, "But we can fix that privately, now can't we?"

Without further ado, Daphne tilted her head and whispered back, "Of course I'll go with you. I've been wondering how that new mattress in your dorm's been holding up anyways."

Draco smirked and grabbed her around the waist, but inside he was ambivalent about what he was doing. One side told him that he was had really scored with this pretty girl clinging to his arm, but the other side was saying that he was getting himself into a big pile of shit with all these extra complications.

Ignoring his conscience, Draco walked away with Daphne still clinging to him and jabbering on and on.

"Ooooh, Drakey, this is going to be so much fun! I'm gorgeous and you're gorgeous…we are going to be stars of the Halloween Ball! Tell me all about your costume! Please say it's going to be sexy!"

Draco remembered that Hermione had said his costume should be something related to a merman or the underwater world, so he told Daphne, "I think I'm going as a merman, and Hermione's going as a mermaid. You should go as a, um, sea goddess or something."

Daphne wrinkled her nose. "That Mudblood's going as a mermaid! Ugh! That freak is so irritating! All she does is whine, read, and rot all day. But you're right, Drakey," she cooed thoughtfully. "I'm sure I'd look stunning as a sea goddess. So stunning, actually, that you'd probably have to fight off the other fellows to keep me for yourself."

Draco looked sideways at her and grinned even though he was still simmering about the Mudblood comment. "Then maybe we should just spend the night in my dorm, eh?"

Daphne turned to face him and had a nauseatingly saccharine expression on her own countenance. She grabbed his tie and pulled him down before engulfing his lips with her own. It was, to say the least, a very disgusting snogging session, what with her mouth being excessively wet and slimy, and him not wanting to be a part of it at all.

When she finally broke away to catch her breath, Draco feigned a cough into his sleeve, thus subtly wiping away the surplus spit lining his lips. He watched gratefully as she walked away and blew him a kiss. It had barely been ten minutes and he was already sick of her. How would he survive through an entire ball?

Now smiling to himself about the fact that Daphne had left him alone, Draco put his hands in his pockets and turned away only to find Hermione staring at him on the opposite end of the small hallway with a stricken look on her face.

The smile left his face as quickly as it had come. The look on her face churned his stomach…it was a hodgepodge of fleeting emotions: anger, sadness, disgust, and finally betrayal. This final feeling faded away from her face, but it did not recede from her eyes as she stood, frozen, and Draco walked slowly towards her.

"You and Daphne are together?" she asked dispassionately, her eyes still beseeching him to deny what she'd just seen.

Draco angled his eyes down at her knees and nodded. He didn't want to keep looking at the same sparks of hurt in her normally brown eyes.

"And do you feel that you'll be happy with her?" she continued in the same unfeeling, biting tone.

Draco did not know what to say, so he merely shrugged and tried to look indifferent. "She's an old friend," he said with a façade of flippancy.

Hermione raised a cynical eyebrow. "A friend? A friend with certain benefits, I would think."

Draco hoped with all his might that a hippogriff would swoop down and carry him off to a far away land in that instant. He was finding it very hard to act casual in front of Hermione's intense gaze, and he knew exactly what she meant by her use of the word "benefits".

"It's nothing like that." he muttered as he tried to look incredibly interested by the tapestries on the wall.

"Is that so? I was under the impression that Greengrass there was quite the ideal bed-warmer on dark and stormy nights."

Draco shuffled his feet. "Yeah, so maybe we had a night or two to ourselves last year. What's it to you?"

"Nothing." Hermione murmured demurely. "I just felt that maybe you'd gone temporarily blind or something while she was with you."

"And what's that supposed to mean!"

"Well, that means that maybe you should choose your girlfriends with a bit more care!"

"She's not my girlfriend!" Draco shouted at Hermione. He couldn't believe this was happening, but for some reason, he felt like fighting back. "What's with you, for Merlin's sake? What's so wrong with Daphne Greengrass?"

"What's wrong with her, Draco Malfoy," Hermione shouted back, "Is that she's no good for you! Have you seen the way she walks, the way she talks, the way she constantly fools around behind her boyfriends' backs? She's a complete sleaze, Draco, and I don't think you've made the right choice at all!"

"So how am I supposed to control the way she walks, talks, and acts, huh? Am I her guardian that I can order to do this and to not do this? And how the hell would you know if I've made the right choice or not? You're the one over there necking with Armani and promising to have his children!"

Hermione's hair seemed to crackle with electricity and she narrowed her eyes at him until they were almost slits. "I have not been 'necking' with Alexander, as you so eloquently put it," she hissed. "Nor have I promised to have his children. There's a difference between Alexander and Daphne, Draco. At least Alexander is decent and kind…Daphne is just a –"

"– A what? A what, exactly?" retorted Draco hotly. "A slut? Do you honestly think I don't damn well know that, Hermione? But what the fuck am I supposed to do about it? Oh, I know, let's stand around and wait for the All-Knowing Hermione Granger to enlighten us with her invaluable advice on how to identify the right kind of girls! Tell me, Hermione," he asked relentlessly. "Who were you matching me up with in your little fantasies, huh? Should I have come to you? Should I have come to you and swept you up in my arms, thrown you onto my broom and flown away with you into the full moon night? Should I have hurled you onto my bed, ripped off your clothes, and made love to you so much that the babies would never stop shooting out?"

Hermione glared at him with rage burning in her eyes. "No, of course not, Draco! That's what people do when they **love** each other. Maybe you haven't yet discovered it yet, but love is something that only comes from the right kind of judgment."

"Stop preaching to me about things you'll never understand, Granger! Just because you'll never be loved by anyone doesn't mean you have to unleash all your anger and wisdom on me, does it?"

Hermione stumbled back as if he'd slapped her, and Draco immediately felt the harshness and cruelty of his words.

"N-no, Hermione," he said weakly as he reached for her.

"Don't touch me!" Hermione whispered viciously as she clumsily backed away from him and strove to keep her tears from falling. "Just get away!"

The fury in her words stung, and he himself drew back with a terrible feeling in his guts. It was like someone had poured lead down his throat and into his body.

Hermione was breathing very hard and quickly, almost as if she was trying to hold back her sobs, but still she managed to rasp, "You know, when I first met you and spoke with you, I thought, 'Ah, this one's going to be a real true friend.' I thought that you would be so sweet, and charming, and kind. But I was wrong. I was so wrong. You're just a monster," she spat causing him to flinch. "You're a vile, loathsome creature. You're nothing but a monster, **Malfoy**. Nothing but a monster."

And with that, she turned and fled the hallway, leaving Draco behind to drop to his knees and attempt to pick up whatever pieces remained of her shattered heart.

Thanks sooo much for all the reviews, guys! They really cheered me up and made me feel motivated to write more and more. Also, I know many of you have been incensed and/or worried about my idea of killing off Draco. Let me assure you that this tragic event will NOT be taking place in this story. I love my Draco and intend to give him a living (if perhaps not happy) ending.

Thanks again and enjoy Chapter 10!

**:D**


	11. An Illusion of Perfection

CHAPTER 11

The next few days did not bode well for either Draco or Hermione, and both of them refused to acknowledge each other's presence. Hermione would ignore him because she was furious with him…Draco would avoid her because he didn't feel he like he could look her in the eye.

All in all, a lose-lose situation.

But of course, Fate was never one to live and let live, so it was natural that Draco should be in every one of Hermione's classes, and be thrust upon her whenever partner projects came along. For example, one day in Arithmancy, Vector decided that she was bored with the seating arrangements and promptly "spiced up" the mingling in class by putting students from different houses together. Needless to say, Draco was forced to sit next to Hermione and fight off the chill from the cold shoulder she was giving him.

And who could forget the time when Hermione and he were partnered up in Potions to brew and test the Essence of Goodwill? They did not speak a word to each other and diligently paid attention to their assigned directions, but in the end, something went wrong in the potion, causing Draco to have a ceaseless sneezing fit after he took a sip…something which that proved to be embarrassing and disgusting at the same time. Luckily for Hermione though, he didn't take revenge on her in that instant due to the fact that he was feeling quite generous towards mankind in general at that moment. Stupid potion.

He couldn't be sure, what with his eyes being closed more often than not after his potion consumption, but later on he thought he saw Hermione smirking contentedly out of the corner of his eye. It also didn't help that none of his so-called "friends" offered to help him. But maybe the repetitive expulsion of god-knew-what from his nose and mouth was to blame for that.

Finally, Snape took pity on him and halted the never-ending "ATCHOO's!"

_Merlin, it's about damn time!_ thought Draco._ Maybe I should have waited until I got a good one right in that ugly, pale face of his. That would have made him move a little bit faster, the greasy-haired git._

"Really, Mr. Malfoy," he said in his infamous monotone as he waved his wand once. "You ought to show a bit more skill in this class considering you've been a part of it for the last six years."

Thankful that at last he could breathe normally, Draco muttered docilely, "Thank you, Professor. I can assure you it will not happen again."

"See that it does not."

Draco nodded before quickly leaving for lunch. When he reached the Great Hall, he was enthusiastically greeted by Daphne who smacked a big, wet one on his lips the moment her eyes fell on him. Trying to escape her vice-like grip, he staggered backwards and nearly fell before someone behind him steadied him.

"Thanks," he said as he craned his neck to see who it was.

It was Hermione.

She didn't say anything, and merely nodded almost imperceptibly at him before heading over to her own table. Draco's eyes darkened as he watched Armani cheerfully greet her and sit down next to her. He himself also sat down, (with some difficulty, considering Daphne still had her arms flung around his neck and was still pulling him downwards for more kisses), and began stabbing his steak and potatoes with a hostility usually reserved for criminals and traitors.

He could hear Hermione laughing over the other students' clamoring, and his blond eyebrows joined together in the middle as he angrily shoveled food into his mouth.

"What's wrong, Drakey, darling?" cooed Daphne. She had finally released him from her manicured bonds and was now gazing into his face with faux concern.

Draco was starting to get a headache and **really **didn't feel like discussing his personal dilemmas with notorious airhead, Daphne Greengrass, so he just grunted, "Nothing."

"Okay, then! Say, Drakey-poo, do you think you could take me out for dinner today? I'm simply dying to try out that new restaurant, 'Barnaby's Buffet' I think it's called."

Draco gave a small sigh. Well, it wasn't like he hadn't expected this to happen. It was routine for him by now: acquire a ridiculously dense girlfriend, be completely repulsed by her as she tries to snog with you, take her out to dinner at her request, take her shopping with all expenses paid for by you, engage in another revolting snogging session, try to figure out the ethics of sleeping with her after dating just two days, and then just get rid of her, despite all her tears and tantrums.

He wasn't doing too badly, but it was hard to tell considering he was only entering step three.

"Sure," he said with his eyes still fixed on a certain brunette smiling and laughing at the Gryffindor table.

Daphne beamed and leaned in to cover his cheek with more sickening smooches before beginning her incessant chatter. "Oh, Drakey, you're sooo sweet! You've changed so much since last year! I mean, last year, you were bloody gorgeous of course, but there was also Theodore Nott who I really had a thing for. I mean have you seen the way his muscles ripple under that Quidditch uniform and the way his hair always has that windswept look? I mean, Merlin's beard, he's so hot you could –"

By this time, Draco tuned her out and simply stared at Hermione. She was facing his way and not looking over at him, so he was at full liberty to stare at her for however long he wanted. He began to notice the tiniest little things about her as he observed her, one being the fact that she really had the most perfect teeth he'd ever seen. So straight and white. All in two nice, neat rows. And then there was her hair. It had been the laughing-stock of the school in first year, seeing as it used to look like she hid whole ogres in there.

But now, he noticed, it was much tamer and shinier. Oh yes, the trademark unruly curls were still there, but now they had luster and a richness that he could not recall ever seeing before.

Then, he looked at her eyes. They were really very pretty eyes. One would think that brown would be such a common and boring color, but on her it seemed perfect. Brown was warm and comfortable, and the same could be said about Hermione. She wasn't ever one to push people into admitting things or to always have an atmosphere of chaos and madness around her.

No. She was definitely warm and comfortable.

Following his thoughts about her eyes, Draco began to wonder if maybe people's personalities were defined by their eyes. He knew his eyes were gray and often looked cold and unfeeling to others. Did the same characteristics pose for him? Was he like his renowned eyes, cold and unfeeling? His mind raced back to what had happened yesterday with Hermione in the hallway. She'd looked so hurt and betrayed, and what had he done? Had he been kind and asked her what was wrong, and then comforted her? Had he reassured her that he wouldn't be holding on to Daphne for long, that it was just a fling for the ball? Had he even tried to act reasonable and calm in front of her?

No. Of course not. He was Draco Malfoy. What else could he have done other than shove her concerns aside and stomped on her heart until she began to sob?

_Well, for starters, you could have NOT blown up at her._

Oh, damn. The voices were back. He might as well go along with it.

**She was provoking me! And she was acting like she knew what she was talking about! Am I supposed to just sit there and take that?**

_Draco, I'm pretty sure she wasn't pretending to know stuff about Daphne. I mean, Greengrass can be basically summed up as a slut and a sleaze, you know. I haven't exactly seen her suffer from an overdose of virtue or anything recently, have you?_

**Virtue isn't all that it's cracked up to be, you git. Overly virtuous people tend to leave more boring lives than we sinners do.**

_Try happier, while you're at it. _

**Oh, please. Happiness is completely relative, and while your idea of happiness may be sipping a nice, tall glass of frothy butterbeer, mine is being able to stick with a sexy girl who knows her way around the alleys, so to speak.**

_You're disgusting, Draco, have I ever told you that?_

**Considering I don't often mentally insult myself, I take a guess at "NO".**

_Enough of the wiseass talk. Let's discuss the real problem: what the hell is going on with you and Hermione Granger? I know you, Draco, and you have something going on with that frizzy-haired witch over there. Out with it!_

**It's not frizzy! And I don't have "something" going on with her, you moron. In case you haven't noticed, I kind of pissed her off yesterday, and surprisingly enough, the matter hasn't been resolved yet. **

_It's called an apology, dumbass, you should try it sometime. And if you have nothing going on with her, then why are you so uptight about her spending time with Armani?_

**Ah, fuck you, you – **

"DRACO!" screeched a shrill voice in his ear.

Draco jumped back, startled, as a pale hand began waving itself in his face. It took him a while to realize that this hand was attached to a most irritating owner: Daphne Greengrass.

She wasn't looking too pleased, and put her hands on her hips as she questioned him huffily, "Excuse me, but did you just hear a word I said?"

Draco put his hand to his face and pinched the bridge of his nose. What had he ever done to deserve this? "Hold on, Daph, I've got a mildly painful headache, and you're really not helping it go away."

Daphne pouted at him. "Ugh, you can't be getting sick **now**, Drakey, it would completely mess up our dates and maybe even the ball! And, hello, but who were you staring at just a while ago? Was it some other girl? Are you thinking about cheating on me? Are you going to leave me?"

With each word, her vocal pitch rose higher and higher until Draco was sure there'd be a swarm of bats flying in at any second then.

"Bloody hell, Daph, tone it down. I'm not going to cheat on you, and I'm not going to leave you." _Yet_, he added as a private afterthought.

But Daphne was not appeased, and stood directly behind his back before lowering her face right next to his and then looking straight ahead. The intrepid investigator's eyes narrowed the moment they zeroed in on Hermione who was smiling and chatting with Armani.

Daphne straightened up and sat back down next to Draco before whispering venomously, "Pray tell, Draco, why have you been ogling Hermione Granger, Mudblood Extraordinaire, Legendary Bookworm of Hogwarts, and the most insufferable know-it-all to ever come into existence?"

Draco bristled at the series of insults, and replied defensively, "I most certainly have not been ogling her, Daphne, and you will very kindly not ever refer to her as "Mudblood" again."

"Oh, have I struck a nerve, Draco? You and I both know damn well that you've had your eyes glued onto her for quite a while now, and I think of it as my duty to cleanse you of her impurity and dirtiness."

Draco began to see red splotches muddle up his vision, but he couldn't bring himself to slap a girl, no matter how much stupid bint deserved it. "Don't be daft, Daphne," he said in cold fury. "She's purer and cleaner than you and I will ever be, so I suggest you shut it and get back to discussing the newest breast-enhancement spells with your little friends before I dump you on your arse in front of everyone."

Daphne looked very taken aback, but she wisely held her tongue and dared not to say another word in front of him.

Still infuriated by her ridiculous comments, Draco clenched his jaw and stared straight ahead for only a few seconds before his eyes drifted back, unthinkingly and speedily, to Hermione's face.

There was something in her, he thought as her face was illuminated by a burst of sunlight. Something that no one would ever be able to break, or bottle, or describe to perfection. It was wild, yet unwavering, soaring, yet well-grounded, hidden, yet exposed.

It was a work of art no mortal artist could ever hope to create, a breathtaking symphony no earth-bound musician could ever dare to compose.

It was hers and only hers, and no one could ever dream of wrenching it away from her.

It was her everything. It was her spirit.

...

Hermione could feel her face turning red as Alexander picked up her hand and kissed her knuckles. He was so very sweet and gentlemanly, always greeting her with some sort of small gift (today it was a small rose) and a kiss. Hermione knew that girls all over the school envied her, but the bizarre thing was that she would've given him up if the perfect opportunity had come up.

What she meant was, she didn't feel the way a girl should feel when she is with someone she really loves. There was no lightheadedness when she stared into Alexander's eyes, no bodily implosions when she would feel his lips on her forehead or cheek. There was just no spark, no flutters, no **zing. **

If she was meant to fall in love with him, where were all the signs?

"Hermione," Alexander called quietly. "Do you mind coming with me for a little stroll?"

Hermione blinked a few times to come out of her thoughts before nodding and standing up.

They silently walked out onto the grounds. Hermione was slightly bemused and asked, "What's wrong, Alexander? Is everything all right?"

They both sat down on the ground, and Alexander picked up hand and idly played with her fingers. "There's nothing wrong, Hermione. I just wanted to talk to you alone."

"Yes, go on, then."

He began to trace random doodles on her palm. "What happened to you and Malfoy? You don't seem to be very buddy-buddy anymore."

Hermione watched two birds fly gaily around a tree. "We had…a little argument."

"Care to tell me what it was about?"

"Oh, it was a bit stupid," she said dismissively. "Just a little spat over, er, judgment issues."

"Then you're not going to remain angry with each other for much longer, I presume?"

She looked down at him curiously, and he met her gaze solemnly. "No-o, I don't believe either of us is very put out with each other, but really Alexander, what's with the sudden interest in Malfoy?"

Alexander took a deep breath. "Hermione, you know I've just started here this year, so I am not as familiar with your classmates as you are, but if there's one person I know a whole lot about other than Harry Potter, it's Draco Malfoy."

Intrigued, Hermione asked, "Your point being?"

He pulled out a folded newspaper page from the Daily Prophet and handed it to her. As she read the headline, ("Malfoy Clan's Secrets Unleashed!"), he began to speak. "Hermione, Malfoys have been around for ages, and they're known throughout wizarding society as one of the strictest and most orthodox of pureblood families. They've always meddled in the Dark Magic spectrum, and over time, Dark Magic has become their specialty. And not only are they all fixated with the rules and traditions of purebloods from hundreds of yeas ago, but they are also very deeply associated with the name 'Voldemort'."

Hermione didn't say anything because she was now intently reading the article, so Alexander kept talking.

"You do know, Hermione, that Lucius Malfoy, Draco's father, was actually Voldemort's right hand man for the longest time until he was upstaged by another Death Eater? And that even Draco's mother was involved with the Death Eaters? Do you know that Draco was actually supposed to be an essential part of the Death Eaters, but in the end he evaded it because by then, Voldemort had been vanquished?"

Hermione finished reading, turned the paper around so that the headline and picture would be facing Alexander, and pointed at Draco's face which was staring into the camera despite the ubiquitous flashes.

"That Draco Malfoy is not the same as the Draco Malfoy you see before you today in Hogwarts." she exclaimed fervently. "That Draco was unsure of himself and confused; this Draco is now confident and firm about his future. That Draco was easily swayed by threats and more cowardly; this Draco trusts his own judgment and is strong in the face of adversity. That Draco once stood for everything dark and wrong…this Draco now lives for everything light and good!"

Alexander was stunned for a moment by her impassioned speech, but soon regained his voice. "Hermione, don't try to blindly defend him! Look at his past! Look at his background! Don't those things mean anything to you?"

Hermione was beginning to get pretty ticked off at the ignorant boy in front of her, but she kept her own voice at the same level. "The only blind person I see around here, Alexander Armani, is you. You're the one who's still so caught up in someone's past, you refuse to look ahead to his present and future! You sit there listing all the horrors and vulgarities connected to the Malfoy name, but I don't see you telling me about a single thing Draco's done **now**. People are very capable of changing themselves, Alexander, and Draco is no exception. He's not to be defined by his family, and he should not placed in the same category as Death Eaters and like just because of a stupid unanimous generalization!"

She got to her feet to leave, but Alexander was quick on his feet and grabbed her wrist to spin her back towards him.

"Tell me, Hermione," he asked as he squeezed her wrist ruthlessly with his strong fingers. "Do you have feelings for Malfoy?"

Hermione tried to pry his fingers off her wrist and said fiercely through gritted teeth, "Let go of me, Alexander, you're hurting me!"

He didn't loosen his grip and in fact tightened it more as rage began to overtake his features. "You didn't answer my question, Hermione. Do you have feelings for Malfoy or not?"

"He's my friend!" she cried as she tried to jerk her hand away. "I don't know what else there is to say! I like him and am fond of him only as a friend!"

Alexander gave her wrist a little twist, one painful enough to make her gasp. "It had better not progress any where from friendship, Hermione. Otherwise I'll personally take care of our Death Eater Jr. myself."

He let go of her hand and she immediately ran away from him and back into the castle. She leaned her back against a wall and rubbed her stinging wrist when she heard footsteps to her right. She looked around and saw it was Draco.

He saw her then too, and his face was clouded with repent as he stammered, "Hermione, Hermione, I – I'm so –"

He didn't have to say anything else because Hermione ran towards him and threw her arms around his waist. She pushed her face into his chest, but he could still understand the muffled words that poured out from her mouth.

"I forgive you, Draco. I forgive you."

And Hermione knew, deep inside, that she was forgiving him for far more than he could have ever imagined.

Oh, wow, people, you guys have struck me speechless! 33 reviews in two days? –sniff, sniff – You all are just too kind. Thank you very much. :)

Now, as you all can tell, Alexander is a tad bit too possessive with Hermione, and is now trying to poison Draco's name for her. Will our handsome yet fiery Italian wreak more havoc in Hermione's life, or will he but put in his place quickly and painfully by Draco Malfoy, our sexy and up-to-his-knees-in-crap Slytherin?

Stay tuned to find out on the next episode of "Can't Help Falling In Love With You"!

;)


	12. Footsteps of Silence

CHAPTER 12

Draco didn't know what to say or do, so he stood there and awkwardly held her as she pressed her face into his chest. She wasn't crying, that was for sure, but something about her at that moment made her seem small and helpless. Without thinking, Draco lifted one hand and slowly stroked her hair.

They both froze before Hermione pulled back and swept her hair out of her face, her cheeks red. Draco felt the significant loss of her body heat, and promptly dropped his arms to his sides.

"I – I'm sorry for attacking you like that," Hermione said as she and he both began to walk down the corridor.

Draco shook his head dismissively. "It's all right. I'm glad you forgave me though. How did you know what I was going to say? I didn't even get the right words out of my mouth."

She gave him a weak smile. "Woman's intuition."

"Oh. Works for me, I suppose."

Draco could tell she had something else on her mind, but he didn't press the matter. He instead struck up a conversation about the ball. "Anyways, Hermione, have you been working much on the ball plans? It sort of just hit me that it's only a few days away."

Hermione rolled her eyes playfully before reaching inside her robes and pulling out a scroll. "Not to worry, my excessively forgetful and unhelpful assistant. I've got it nearly covered."

Draco took the scroll from her and was once again impressed by her attention to detail and her management skills. The list covered everything from appetizers and confections to the closing ceremony for the ball. She had written everything in bullet formation, and for each thought and idea, she had about three extra bullets to fully elaborate every necessary accessory. There were loads and loads of diagrams, innumerable little notes on the side, and several scratch-outs.

He raised his eyebrow and looked up from the scroll incredulously. "Hermione, do you realize that you've turned this whole thing into a N.E.W.T level thesis?"

She sniffed nonchalantly. "It's not that good. And besides, what did you expect I was going to hand you? A torn piece of scrap parchment with a few illegible squiggles on it?"

He shrugged. "Sort of."

She quickly snatched the scroll away and put it back in her robes. Draco was perturbed to see that she actually had a slim and trim body, thus dashing all the thoughts he had deluded himself into about how frumpy she must be under the baggy school robes.

"Clearly, you don't know me very well, then." she muttered in response to his shrug.

As she straightened up her robes, her right hand sleeve slipped down, and Draco saw large red marks around her wrist that roughly looked like finger marks. She saw him looking and tried to drop her hand quickly, but Draco grabbed it and examined the harsh imprints.

"What happened here, Hermione?" he asked as she withdrew her hand and let the sleeve conceal her wrist.

"Nothing."

"How did you get hurt?"

"It's nothing, Draco."

"Stop lying, Hermione, you're ridiculously bad at it as it is."

She bit her lip as she measured the weight of her words. "It's really nothing, Draco, I was just walking with Ginny when she tripped and grabbed my wrist to keep from falling. It's all right, you know. Even McGonagall once grabbed me around the neck to keep from slipping on the floor."

Draco glowered at her with irritation, but his eyes soon softened. "Well, as long as you haven't been hurt by anyone."

She looked surprised at his comment, but smiled at his concern for her. "Don't worry about me, Draco. I told you, it was just a, er, disaster prevention act by Ginny. That's all."

He gave her a strange look at her odd choice of words, but didn't pursue the issue any longer. Hermione and he began trudging up the stairs towards Defense Against the Dark Arts, and the comfortable silence was only punctured by the chattering and laughter of the other students until she suddenly asked, "Hey, where's Daphne? I haven't seen her for a bit."

He tried to clear his throat in a casual manner before saying, "She doesn't have any classes on this side for a while, so there's no need for her to stick by my side, now is there?"

She shook her head. "No, I guess not. Listen, Draco, I'm sorry for what I said the other day. I shouldn't have said it and I didn't mean for –"

Draco shushed her. "Stop it. You don't have to apologize for anything. After all, you weren't completely in the wrong about her. She is kind of…flighty."

Hermione smiled ruefully as she hitched her bag up higher on her shoulder to keep it from falling. "But I need to apologize, Draco. I shouldn't have jumped to such rotten conclusions so quickly. It was very rude of me, and I just wanted to say sorry for that."

Upon hearing this, Draco once again thought of how cheap the girls he'd been with over the last few years were compared to Hermione. Hermione had proper decorum, the right mannerisms, and a polite disposition (when she wasn't furious). She didn't waste time wondering which hairstyle would suit her the best, or which nail polish color would make her look the most attractive…she was just real.

Draco pushed open the doors to the classroom and kept his arm out so that Hermione could walk through. She flashed him a quick grin before going over to the middle row and joining Harry and Ron at one desk. When she urged him to hurry up and get to his seat before the professor walked in, the two boys turned their heads to see who she was talking to.

Grey eyes met green eyes first before sliding to the right and meeting a pair of blues. Draco nodded slightly to each of them, and Harry and Ron both gave small nods back. Then without further ado, Draco rushed to an open seat next to Blaise and sat down just as the newly hired professor, Professor Armstrong, entered the class.

"Good day, everyone," the tall man called as his murky brown eyes scanned the classroom for any absences. "I trust you all have completed the essay on the differences between Psuedospells and Irregular Spells? Good, good."

He waved his wand, and instantly about thirty or so scrolls of parchment flew up into the air and dove into his outstretched arms. He flipped through each scroll, checking the names, and then clucked disappointedly as he reached the last piece.

"Draco Malfoy," he called, "Where is your essay?"

With a sinking feeling in his stomach, Draco realized that he had forgotten to complete his DADA homework, and instead had wasted his time dilly-dallying with Daphne.

"I don't have it, sir," he said as he stood up.

Armstrong raised his eyebrows and said loudly, "Detention, Mr. Malfoy! My office, tonight, 9 p.m."

Draco did not say anything and sat back down.

"Tough luck, mate," Blaise whispered to him as Armstrong began a lecture on the Unforgivable Curses (something everyone had learned about three years ago). "I was hoping you could go patrolling with me today."

"It's fine." Draco whispered back. "Just go with Hermione tonight."

Blaise nodded as Armstrong droned on, "The Imperius curse sounds the tamest, but it could be, in fact, the most chilling of the three curses. Imagine not being able to hold on to a single strand of your own thoughts or desires, not being able to resist if someone ordered you to drown yourself or throw yourself off a tower, not being able to fight back against a voice that commanded you to torture your best friend into insanity or to murder him in cold blood…"

...

That night, after Draco had left to do his detention, Hermione and Blaise were patrolling on the fourth floor. It was a quiet night, and having done their rounds once already, they were both idly talking and looking around to make sure nothing was out of place the second time through.

"Hermione?" asked Blaise.

"Hmm?"

"Do you like Draco?"

Hermione turned around with a smile on her face as she held her lit wand loosely by her side. "Of course I like him, Blaise! Why wouldn't I? I would say he is a very close friend right now."

Looking and sounding very much like an eight year-old, Blaise shook his head solemnly and asked, "No, I mean do you **really **like him?"

"You mean, do I fancy him?"

"Yeah."

"No."

Blaise's dark eyes bore into Hermione's own lighter ones, and she turned her head and pretended to examine a painting so that he would not see her biting her lip and blushing.

"Hermione, are you hiding from me?"

She grimaced just the tiniest bit. "No."

"Well, then, can I see your face?"

Hermione took a deep breath and faced Blaise again who was regarding her with something close to skepticism. His dark eyes zoomed all over her face, making her feel as if she were being looked at through a magnifying lens in some sort of lab. She knew what he was doing, and carefully composed her features as to not display any of the emotions she was feeling.

"So it's you and Armani now, eh?"

She desperately tried to keep her face neutral as she rubbed her wrist unconsciously. "Yes."

"Do you like him?"

"Mm."

"Is he good to you?"

"Yes."

"Are you capable of giving answers longer than one syllable?"

"Yes."

Blaise sighed exasperatedly. It made Hermione roll her eyes and grin at him.

"Merlin, Blaise, are you planning to go into the psychiatric ward of St. Mungo's when you leave Hogwarts?"

He laughed once, but then said thoughtfully, "No, I might not go into the psychiatric ward, but I am thinking that maybe I should become a Healer."

"Why, that's excellent!" Hermione exclaimed as she jumped at the change of subject. "You're so good with healing spells, and so kind to everyone, I'm sure you'd be a bloody fantastic Healer!"

"Er, thanks, Hermione. That really makes me feel good about myself."

She winked at him. "No worries, Zabini, I'll always be here for you when you need a bit of cheering up."

"My, my," said another voice from behind them. "Such good friends."

Hermione and Blaise both spun around rapidly with their wands pointed firmly in front of them as the person walked towards them. As brown hair, tanned skin, and olive eyes came into view, Hermione felt herself blanch.

It was Alexander.

He loped towards them with an easy grin on his face, but Hermione saw that his eyes remained quite unaffected. She immediately remembered his words from before: "_Otherwise I'll personally take care of our Death Eater Jr. myself...and any other dirty Slytherins along with him." _

Hermione could feel her heart pounding in her chest, and it sounded to her like a battering ram being hammered over and over into a stone wall. She began to take smaller breaths and could feel her mouth dry up in trepidation as Blaise stepped forward and extended his hand.

"Hello," he said cordially. "I'm Blaise Zabini, friend of Hermione's."

Hermione nearly threw herself in front of Blaise out of fear of Alexander attacking him, but Alexander merely stepped forward and shook Blaise's hand.

"Ah, yes, Blaise Zabini," he drawled as his eyes flickered to the green and silver tie around Blaise's neck. "I think I've seen you around before."

Blaise shrugged. "You might have. My schedule has me running all around the castle, and I'm also Chaser on the Slytherin Quidditch team."

Hermione didn't know if she was just being paranoid or what, but she thought she saw Alexander's jaw clench as he heard the word "Slytherin". Her instincts now strongly urging her to grab Blaise and run, she swallowed nervously once before pasting a wide smile on her face and walking closer to Alexander.

"Hello, Alexander!" she cried in fake cheer as she kissed his cheek. "What are you doing up here?"

He had stiffened when she'd kissed his cheek, but then grabbed her around the waist and held her close tightly. "Oh, it was nothing, Hermione. Flitwick gave me permission today to try out the Refreshing Charm, and I haven't been able to rest until I've gotten the hang of it."

Trying to squelch her bubbling suspicions, Hermione nodded knowingly and said, "Oh yes, the spell that makes you feel completely new and clean. That was a tricky one. Have you managed it yet?"

Alexander shook his head morosely before his face brightened. "Hey, I have an idea! Why don't I practice once on you two? It'll be my last try of the day, and I promise there won't be any grotesque side effects."

Blaise glanced at Hermione before locking eyes with Alexander. "Go ahead, Armani. But I'm warning you, I'd better not have any tentacles sprouting out of me, or a sudden breakout of acne." he said jokingly.

"Don't worry, mate," Alexander said good-naturedly. "It'll be nonverbal, something that I'm a master at, so you shouldn't be too apprehensive. All right, here it goes!"

He pointed his wand at Blaise and narrowed his eyes in concentration. After a few seconds, he lowered his wand and stood back to examine his handiwork.

"Blaise?" Hermione called a bit timidly. "Blaise, how do you feel?"

It took him a while to answer, but Blaise frowned and said, "I don't feel any different. I don't think it worked."

"Damn," Alexander pouted. "And I've been trying all day, too."

Blaise patted him on the back. "It's okay. I'm sure you'll get the hang of it tomorrow." He waved at Hermione before saying, "Well, Hermione, I should be off now. I need to go see that Draco hasn't fallen into a coma of boredom or anything, so if you'll both excuse me…"

Hermione nodded. "Go on, Blaise. See you tomorrow."

Blaise walked away, and as he turned the corner, Hermione felt cold fear wash over herself again as she realized that she and Alexander were alone.

"A – Alexander, I – I can explain…"

He looked down at her and smiled kindly. "What do you need to explain for, Hermione? He's a good guy, and I'm glad he's your friend."

She was mightily confused as she as stammered, "B – but you told me that you would –"

He frowned and then sighed sorrowfully. "I know what I said, Hermione, and I'm sorry for that. I shouldn't have reacted the way I did…it was very wrong and cruel of me. And," he whispered as he reached for her hand and softly grazed her wrist with his fingers, "I'm so sorry for hurting you, Hermione. I wasn't in my right mind, and I just got riled up for no reason. I'm so sorry for hurting you. Can you forgive me?"

His olive eyes pleaded for reprieve, and Hermione felt herself nodding. _No, no, NO, why am I saying yes! He doesn't deserve it, the stinking brute doesn't deserve it! Oh no, hold it, mister! I've got some things to say to you before you leave._

He sighed in relief. "Ah, thank you. Now, if you'll excuse me as well, I need to go back to the Gryffindor common room. It's getting late."

"Hold on," she called loudly as he paused in mid-pivot and swiveled back towards her. "Alexander, you had better understand it right now that if you ever hurt me again, or attempt to harm my friends, I will not hesitate in hexing you into next week." Hermione knew her eyes were blazing, and hoped that the tall boy in front of her would get the message. "If I see or hear of you attacking someone, or if you try to threaten me like you did before, I will personally go to Professor Dumbledore and tell him about everything that happened!"

Alexander stared at her before quirking a crooked smile and pulling her into his arms. "Like I said, Hermione, I was not in my right mind that day. Of course I won't harm anyone of your friends, and I will never again hurt you like I did the other day. I'm sorry. I really am."

He put his lips on hers, and Hermione lost her train of thought for a few seconds as he enveloped her in a strong embrace. It was sweet, not fiery or mad...just a sweet and gentle kiss. "Forgive me?" he murmured against her cheek.

"All right. Good night." she mumbled as he kissed her forehead and then began striding away. "Good night."

...

Draco traipsed into the Slytherin common room wearily and fell back onto the couch with a groan. Blaise was sitting there too, and smirked at Draco before asking, "Had fun?"

Draco groaned again and lifted his right hand. "Armstrong bloody worked me to death copying the textbook onto thirty scrolls of parchment. I couldn't take a break longer than ten seconds without him breathing down my neck and saying, 'Mr. Malfoy, do you really want to stay an extra two hours?' Ugh, it was a fucking nightmare."

Blaise chuckled at his friend's plight. "Serves you right, mate. You shouldn't have been off snogging Greengrass when you had work to do."

Draco shot him a pained look. "You think I **enjoy** exchanging spit with that hag? She's got enough saliva stocked up in that mouth of hers to fill a lake! It's disgusting!"

Blaise shuddered sympathetically, and then looked right and left as if to see if anyone else was there.

"I honestly don't know why I bother with her," Draco rattled on. "It's not as if she's the last mildly good-looking woman left on earth. Maybe I should –"

But Draco never managed to say what he ought to do, because the only things he could register in that last moment were the face of Blaise Zabini screwed up in ferocity and exertion above him, and the brown hands that were mercilessly squeezing his throat and cutting off his air supply.

Hey, there, everyone! Thanks for the reviews. Special thanks to Azriel – Auras for providing her sublime editing skills. Your help was very appreciated!

Well, what do you think? Has Armani really turned over a new leaf? Will Draco ever have an epiphany about his feelings for Hermione? And what the hell is wrong with Blaise Zabini?

Check it out later in Chapter 13!


	13. What I Fail to Understand

CHAPTER 13

"Blaise, stop, stop!" gasped Draco as his best friend continued to throttle him relentlessly. "Stop……s-stop…."

Draco's eyes were starting to roll back, and he was frantically clawing at Blaise's hands and trying to get him to slacken his grip.

But it was to no avail.

Blaise continued to choke Draco, and as Draco began to shake his whole body in a final effort to throw him off, a dull thud and a scream were heard resounding throughout the common room.

In an instant, Blaise was thrown off and knocked to the ground, and Draco rapidly lifted his hands to his throat in order to massage it just as another pair joined in. Still gasping for breath, Draco looked up into the frazzled face of Pansy Parkinson who was very deliberately not making eye contact with him and kneading the pale skin of his neck.

A shout of "Incarcerous!" and a yell for Professor Snape could be heard as Pansy gently rubbed Draco's neck and whispered, "Calm down, Draco, it's okay, you're safe now. It's just Theodore over there, making sure Blaise is tightly bound…"

"B – Blaise...how could it h – have been…." Draco croaked in bewilderment just as a pale figure wearing all black swept in through the door.

"Mr. Malfoy!" Professor Snape shouted as he rushed over to his favorite student (_Ha, _thought Draco weakly). "Who did this? Who did this?"

Pansy lifted a slightly shaking finger towards the writhing Blaise who was being watched over by Theodore.

Without another word, Snape hastened to Theodore's side and pointed his wand at the restless boy, saying "Mobilicorpus."

"Everyone," Snape called in a clipped tone, "To Professor Dumbledore's office. Ms. Parkinson," he added as he nodded towards her and Draco. "Please help Mr. Malfoy up and out."

Pansy wordlessly acquiesced by helping Draco get to his feet and keeping a firm grip on his upper arm as they all marched up the stairs and onto the main floor. By the time they reached the entrance to Dumbledore's office, Draco decided he was feeling much better, and lightly tugged Pansy's hand off of him. She didn't say anything to him, but her forehead crumpled in displeasure as she stared at the bright red finger imprints on both sides of his neck.

_Since when do you care? _Draco wondered as he locked eyes with her for a fleeting second. She backed away slightly from him, as if to show that what had just happened was not to serve as some sort of connection between them, and then carefully rearranged her features back into something bordering indifference.

As Draco rubbed his neck with his palm, Snape muttered the age-old password "Lemon drops", and in a second, they were all standing on the revolving staircase and ascending to the familiar circular room.

They were met by Dumbledore who cordially ushered them all inside and then asked as he peered at Snape over his half-moon glasses, "Well, Severus, what seems to be the problem?"

Snape waved his wand and Blaise floated forward, still struggling against the tightly bound ropes in midair. "We had an incident just now in the common room involving Mr. Malfoy and Mr. Zabini."

Draco stepped up into the soft candlelight from Dumbledore's desk, causing the marks on his neck to be exposed. Dumbledore said softly, "Ah, yes, I see. Strangling marks. Mr. Malfoy, can you explain this incident?"

"I was just in the common room, talking with Blaise, when all of a sudden, he just jumps on me and starts to…choke me. I swear to Merlin, professor, I have absolutely no idea why or how Blaise did such a thing. But," he added with a side-long glance at his friend's futile attempts to free himself. "I can give you my full vote of confidence that Blaise is not the sort to do something like this from his own intentions. We don't hold grudges against each other, and I think there's something very wrong going on right now."

Dumbledore nodded and then stood up to stare intensely at Blaise's face. After a few moments of speculation, he murmured softly, "The Imperius spell."

Draco could feel his eyebrows go up instantly, and saw that Snape's were also in danger of disappearing into those greasy curtains of hair.

"Imperius curse, Professor? By another student?" asked Snape, his voice tinged with skepticism.

"It is indeed, Severus. The eyes are blank and glassy, and Mr. Zabini shows no signs of comprehension or understanding of his environment and surroundings. However, since it is best assumed that this was conducted by a fellow student, it can also be easily assumed that this spell can be rapidly eradicated."

Snape wordlessly raised his wand and pointed it at the thrashing, hovering boy.

"On three," Dumbledore instructed. "One, two –"

"FINITE INCANTATEM!" both men cried as identical flashes of light engulfed Blaise, and the confining coils vaporized around him.

Blaise fell to the ground, unmoving, before Snape took aim at him again and muttered, "Enervate."

Blaise opened his eyes and blinked thrice rapidly as an expression of disorientation appeared on his face. Once he registered the five people anxiously gazing at him, he scrambled gracelessly to his feet and his head swiveled back and forth from Draco to Dumbledore as the questions spurted from his mouth.

"Draco? Professor Dumbledore? What am I doing here? Is there something wrong?"

Draco wanted to try and say something, but Dumbledore lightly cut across. "Mr. Zabini, there's a certain issue at hand, and I'm afraid you and Mr. Malfoy are at the center of it. We have just now discovered that your actions were being led by the Imperius curse, most likely cast by a student. Whoever it was who cast it, he or she wanted you to harm and perhaps murder Mr. Malfoy here."

Draco took another small step forward and locked eyes with Blaise's shocked and widening ones. All the color had drained from the suddenly frozen boy's face, and the overall effect would have been comical had it not been for the horrified expression now quickly sinking into his countenance.

"Draco," Blaise breathed, his chest rising and falling rapidly as his eyes swirled in turmoil. "Those red marks on your neck…p-please tell me that wasn't me…"

Nothing was to be heard except for a momentarily deafening silence, and then, Blaise fell back with a strangled cry. "No, no, no, no, NO! How is this possible?! Draco," he bleated as his gaze returned to the now-pink marks around Draco's neck. "Draco, mate, you know I'd never do such a thing! I swear, I don't even know how it happened! Professors," he pleaded beseechingly to Dumbledore and Snape. "You know that I consider him my brother…I couldn't do something like this on my own! I don't know how it happened, but I can assure you that I have no ties to it!"

Draco wanted to hold Blaise by his shoulders and steady him to clam him down, but before he could do so, Pansy walked over to Blaise and wrapped her arms around his waist to gently but firmly pull him back, as he was on the verge of mild hysteria.

The action surprised Draco, since he had never seen her exhibit any kindness or sympathy for anyone.

_Have you ever thought that maybe one good turn deserves another?_

Ugh, why was it starting now, when he needed to focus on his near-death experience at the hands of his best friend? God, those voices really had the most irksome timing. Oh, well. He figured he'd just have to deal with it and work with versatility for a while.

**I'm sorry, I was busy contemplating my recent escape from the chilling clutches of Death, could you repeat that?**

_Oi, shut up, you dim-witted bastard. It's all right jolly that you were nearly strangled into unconsciousness, but now that we're sure that you're alive and well, why don't you think about Pansy's change of heart?_

**Listen, you effing blighter, I'm not about to analyze the reason why she restrained Blaise in such a caring way, all right? Maybe she's going on some bipolar medication or something. Whatever it is, I don't care enough to continue thinking about it! Now keep quiet! Dumbledore's trying to say something!**

"Mr. Zabini, my boy," the old wizard said in a voice that overflowed with kindness and understanding. "There's no need to be so distraught and terrified. It has already been established that you were under the Imperius curse…not a very strong one, since Professor Snape and I were able to efface it with a simple, combined 'finite incantatem', but it was powerful enough to control you and lead you into such a predicament."

Draco watched with just the slightest bit of resentment as even Theodore awkwardly patted Blaise on the back and mumbled, "Calm down, mate. You've done nothing wrong."

**The outrage…**hissed the more belligerent voice in Draco's head. **I'm Nott's bloody Quidditch captain, and he's never tried to help me out or comfort me before!**

_Um, Draco? He's the bloke who made sure Blaise was securely bound back in the common room after your little near-death experience. I'm pretty sure he was looking out for you right then._

**It's not the same, though! Hell, I would've done something like that had it been the Weasel or, (gah, I can't believe I'm about to say this), Potter! Restraining people is one of my strengths. But what Pansy and Theodore are doing is just…mind - boggling. They've never showed an ounce of care or comfort for ME before! I was Pansy's fucking boyfriend and she never gave a damn about me!**

_Put a sock in it, you blond-headed pig. It's not as if you ever really strove to comfort Nott or Pansy when they were in trouble or going through a hard time either. Remember when Theo's sister, Flavia, drowned herself? Or when Pansy broke her ankle when she was trying out for the Quidditch team as a joke? I don't remember you – _

**Flavia's death was terrible, of course, but it's not like Theo came to me bawling for comfort. I found out about the incident only after Blaise was notified. And as for Pansy's stupidity…whether it be broom - related or bed - related, it will always be ruddy hilarious, not saddening or requiring consolation from ME.**

_This is exactly why no one ever really shows you any kindness, Draco. You're constantly griping about how you're so bloody special, and how the Slytherin Prince deserves so much more than what people give you. In case you didn't notice, mate, sometimes you need to work for things, like friendship, loyalty, and trust. Don't you remember how you completely tore down anything Pansy had for you that day in the common room? Oh, and let's not forget that up until now, all you've ever harbored for Theodore was just a supercilious indifference. Do you honestly think you deserve better than what they're giving you right now? At least Blaise is civil to everyone…I don't think the same can be said about you, though!_

**I…I am civil to people. Why else would Blaise still be my friend? Why is it that the Weasleys and Potter can actually stand to speak with me (even if it is in small terms)? And…why is it that Hermione likes me so much?**

As these questions were being voiced in his head, Draco was also listening to Blaise trying to induce a glimmer of recollection as Dumbledore encouraged him to keep searching. Snape merely stood to the side, his sallow face unreadable, while Pansy and Theodore were standing further back, both murmuring things to each other.

Draco's mind was silent for a second, but then the harsh tone of the more logical and ethical side returned, bringing with it a foreboding sense of brutality.

_You wonder why Hermione likes you, eh?_

**I believe that is what I asked. But of course, please feel free to remain silent.**

_She doesn't know you, Draco. She doesn't know how you used to be, before __**she**__ happened. She doesn't know how you would laugh when people got hurt, how you ruthlessly antagonized her and her friends, how you used to take out five girls in one week, and then throw them away for a night's use._

**Shut up, you, just shut up!**

_Why should I, Draco? Don't you want to listen to the voice of reason? You think she won't find out about your history, or anything you've been involved with unless you tell her? Let me remind you, Draco, that the whole school hasn't lost its memory…only her. People here won't think twice before poisoning her ears against you, and then where will you be? Back to square one: The - Slytherin – Prince – Everyone – Loves – to – Hate. _

**I thought I told you to shut up!**

The other voice taunted him now. _Overly defensive, I see. Maybe it's because you know whatever I'm saying is true. Forget it, Draco, you'll always be just like your father: cruel, malicious, and excessively proud. It's a shame…your mother had always hoped you'd be different. I suppose not._

**I am not my father! I never was, and I never will be! Just leave me alone! **

_Fine, then, Draco, I will. But before I leave, I just want you to think about one thing: some mirrors reflect things exactly as they are, yet others reflect only what a person wants to see. So my question to you is, when you look in the mirror, what stares back at you? The truth? Or a lie?_

The voices faded away, and Draco saw that no one was saying anything around him. Then, Dumbledore gave a small sigh and addressed Draco, "Mr. Malfoy, please go down to the hospital wing with Mr. Nott. You too, Mr. Zabini," he added as he nodded towards the other exhausted boy. "Madame Pomfrey will make sure you both have a good, deep sleep, and I will expect to see you attending classes regularly tomorrow. Of course, if there is anything you hear of, or if another incident happens, notify either a teacher or myself immediately. Things can not be allowed to get out of hand, and we need to be informed of anything suspicious if we are to catch the culprit."

Dumbledore bowed his head once, and said, "Good night, everyone."

Soundlessly, the group trudged back down and later that night in the hospital wing, just a few seconds before the sleeping potion took effect, Draco thought back to the parting words of that voice in his head.

They filled him with unease and an unnerving sort of discomfort. They were riddled with bitterness, but he knew that there was also a great depth to them. The questions were simple, but it was finding an answer that was the tricky part.

And that was what kept scraping away at his mind. The fact that he himself had no response for his own question.

_…When you look in the mirror, what stares back at you? The truth? Or a lie?_

*************

_**Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep!**_

Hermione stirred slightly in her warm, comfortable haven before prying open one eye to glance at the shiny watch perched on her nightstand next to her beeping wand.

_7:00? Bloody hell, is it time to wake up already? Merlin, I barely got any sleep last night, what with trying to finish two homework essays and waiting for Draco to come back…_

She jumped up as the sudden realization hit her: she had never seen Draco return. Shaking off the miniscule doubts dancing around in her head, she threw off the covers and stood, rationalizing that he was probably still dozing in his own room. She quietly entered the bathroom and padded across the floor until she was directly in front of the heavily polished door that led to his room. Channeling her nervous energy into quick raps of her knuckles, Hermione tentatively knocked on the door.

_**Plock. Plock. Plock.**_

There was no answer.

Forcing herself not to let her imagination run away with her, she called out, "Draco? Draco, are you in there?"

Again, there was no answer.

Hermione frowned, and then headed back to her own room to change into the school-clothes and to freshen up with a few convenient spells. As she slipped into a maroon, knee-length skirt and a well-fitted, white top, she attempted to reassure herself.

"Now, now, Hermione, you're just being unnecessarily neurotic about such a small matter," she muttered as she did up the buttons of her top. "I'm sure Draco's in the Great Hall having an early breakfast with Blaise or someone. There's no need to be worried."

Without further ado after her not-very-helpful pep talk, she threw her bag over her shoulder and rushed down and out of the portrait entrance. With an abrupt thought, she swiveled around on her heel and faced Wickham the Wise.

"Wickham," she said anxiously. "Could you please tell me whether Draco returned here last night or not?"

The young man furrowed his brows in brief thought before shaking his head. "Sorry, Miss Granger, but can't say that he did. Is something the matter?"

Hermione hurriedly shook her head before dashing down the long, treacherous staircases that adorned the interior of Hogwarts. Now seriously apprehensive, she made no move to squelch the rapidly growing fears in her heart as she flew down step after step and into the sparsely populated Great Hall. Upon reaching there, she quickly scanned what few heads there were, desperately searching for the blond head that always stood out in the sea of students like a bright beacon.

Her heart sank when no such beacon was sighted.

A small tap on her shoulder caused her to turn around and come face to face with Harry. His green eyes gazed at her quizzically as he frowned and asked, "Hermione? Are you all right?"

She shrugged her drooping shoulders, trying to act nonchalant. "Yeah, I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be?"

He examined her face closely. "I don't know. You just look really tense and worried to me."

_How is it possible that he can read me so well? It's not like I'm bawling my eyes out or something that it would be obvious. Oh, to hell with being casual! I'm going to ask him if he knows anything._

Hermione cleared her throat and decided to start with something a little simple. "So, Harry, have you seen Ginny around? I haven't seen her or Blaise yet. I know at least you and Ginny usually wake up early for extra homework or Quidditch time, if not Blaise."

Harry shook his head. "No, Ginny hasn't come down yet this morning, and haven't you heard? Blaise and Mal – I mean, Draco, are both in the hospital wing."

Hermione could feel the blood draining from her face as she near sprinted out of the Hall, Harry's voice yelling, "Hermione, wait! Where are you going?!"

She barreled down the thankfully clear hallways before bursting through the familiar double doors of the hospital wing and nearly flattening some boy with a purple nose and antlers poking out of his head. Mumbling a haphazard "sorry", she ran down the row of beds before skidding next to a bed that held a lightly snoring certain someone.

Panting and wheezing for breath, Hermione laid her bag down on the ground and plopped down into the wooden chair positioned near the oblivious blonde's head. On the other side of him was a sleeping Blaise, and as Hermione regulated her respiration, the dark-haired boy turned around so that his back was facing her.

Hermione watched Draco as he slept, noting the peaceful look on his face, and how his chest rose and fell as he dreamed on. She let her eyes wander around his face, focusing periodically on his slightly upturned lips, the way his dark gold eyelashes caressed his pale cheeks, and the heavenly locks that framed his unblemished face.

"Beautiful," she whispered softly while laying her hand down beside his. "Just beautiful."

His eyelids opened a fraction of an inch, almost as if he'd heard her, but then they fell back down, closed just like before.

Hermione spread her fingers on the hand that was next to his and slowly grazed his forefinger with her own. This time, his eyes really did open, and Hermione found herself staring deeply into two mesmerizing pools of gray.

"Hermione?" he said confusedly, his voice raspy with morning grogginess. "What are you doing here?"

He observed his surroundings momentarily and then a look of dawning comprehension graced his face. "Ahhh, yes, now I remember. So stupid of me. Sorry, Hermione, I tend to be a bit slow in the mornings."

"What are you doing in here, Draco?" Hermione asked, her voice unnaturally high-pitched. "What happened?"

Draco sat up and ruffled his hair. "Nothing. Don't worry about it. I'm fine."

"Just tell me, Draco! I was waiting for you to come back last night, and you never showed. So this morning, I figured maybe you stayed in the Slytherin common room, or maybe you came long after I fell asleep. Then, I find out from Harry that you and Blaise are in the bloody hospital wing! What on earth happened? I was so worried!"

Hermione didn't care that her voice was too high, or that she was talking too fast, all she wanted to know was why he was laying in a hospital bed next to his best friend.

Draco sighed. "Hermione, trust me, I'm fine now. There was just a little incident with Blaise where he was forced to h –"

"DRAKEY-POOOOOOOO!" screeched a shrill voice that caused Hermione to nearly fall out of her chair in shock and Draco to jump out of his skin.

Hermione thought she heard Draco give a small groan as the one and only Daphne Greengrass click-clacked towards them on her gaudy three-inch heels.

"DRAKEY, DRAKEY, MY DARLING, WHAT'S WRONG?" she cried as she threw herself on top of him and nearly smothered him with her slobbering kisses. Hermione was disgusted to see spots of saliva actually planted on Draco's cheeks before Daphne seized his face in her hands and dashed her lips to his.

Hermione could feel the bile rising in her throat and unconsciously raised a hand to her mouth to keep the nausea from overflowing into something more potent.

Draco grabbed Daphne's wrists and pushed her back. "Merlin, Daphne, don't kill me! I'm fine, honestly. Sheesh, what is it with you and always snogging my freaking head off whenever you see me?"

Daphne stepped back and gave a throaty little laugh that made Hermione want to punch the living daylights out of her. She realized too late that she must have made some sort of squeamish noise, because the rail-thin Slytherin turned to face her with her hip cocked out dangerously and a short-fingered hand twisted into a fist on it.

Daphne leaned forward until Hermione could smell all the artificial scents on her, and a hint of eau de garlic-breath.

"And just what do you think you're doing here, mudblood bitch?"

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Guys, guys, please don't kill me! I know, I know, but I really am sorry! But high school is hard work, and I have a lot less free time these days for stuff like this. No, I haven't abandoned this story, and I promise not to ever do such a thing, but just bear with me for now, all right? If you feel up to it, please review and let me know what you like and/or dislike! So really, what's going on here? Poor Draco and Blaise find themselves in the midst of some foul play, and Hermione isn't feeling exceedingly gracious towards a certain Slytherin female now. What lies ahead for Draco, our unlucky hero? What problems are just waiting to ambush dear Hermione? Hmmm, we'll see in Chapter 14!

Until next time, friends!


	14. The Things We Never Say

CHAPTER 14

The instant the hateful words fell from Daphne's ultra-glossed lips, Draco opened his mouth to yell the many unkind (to put it nicely) things that were stampeding through his head, but Hermione beat him to it as she gently pushed her chair back and rose to meet the other girl's haughty stare.

"I am here to check on and take care of Draco, Greengrass," Hermione said firmly.

The snobby Slytherin threw her blonde head back in derisive laughter. "_Draco?_ Really, is that what he lets you call him, Granger? After all," she jeered, thrusting her scornful face into Hermione's. "Slaves aren't supposed to take their masters' name."

Hermione said nothing, but on the inside, she was battling to keep her cool. _All right 'Mione, don't lose your self-control and dignity now…you have more self-respect than her, better morals, more intelligence, more goodness in your heart…for God's sake, don't slap her now!_

She was pulled from her thoughts by the growl emerging from the boy perched precariously at the edge of the bed, his eyes glinting dangerously and his hand clutching his hawthorn wand so tightly, his knuckles looked ready to burst from his skin.

"Greengrass," snarled Draco in a voice submersed in disgust. "Get. Out."

Daphne rocked back on her heels like she had been backhanded (something Draco was critically close to doing, by the way), and instantly, her normally taunting expression was replaced by one of faux dismay and pain. "How could you tell me to get out, Drakey? I'm your girlfriend! I'm your gorgeous, perfect girlfriend!" She flung an accusing finger at Hermione. "Are you telling me you're throwing me out because of _her_? Haven't we discussed this already, Drakey? She's a mudblood, a taint to the pureblood race, a veritable blight on all of wizarding society! Why the hell are you even standing up for her? Merlin, Draco, she's a flipping bitch with a stick so far up her ass, even those Weasels she hangs out with couldn't burrow far enough in to reach it!"

A flashing red light raced from the tip of Draco's wand directly to Daphne's throat before she was hurled back about ten feet onto the hard marble floor where she landed roughly on her backside. Draco, who now stood directly in front of Hermione, his broad body shielding hers, stowed his wand away and said menacingly, "Leave, Greenass…just leave."

Daphne struggled to her feet and shrieked, "My name is GREENGRASS!"

Draco shook his head and raised his eyebrows at her. "Not with that fall, it isn't. I'm sure your arse is one big bruise right now, so pardon me if I call you Greenass for a while, eh darling?"

Daphne let out one more outraged scream before stomping away, her hair disheveled, one shoe heel cracked, and a gigantic rip running up the back of her miniskirt.

The moment she left, Draco and Hermione buried their faces in each other shoulders and began laughing almost hysterically at the sight they had just seen. The image of the humiliated Daphne Greengrass was just too funny! After Hermione's eyes began watering from all the mirth, she grasped Draco's shoulder to use as a crutch and steadied herself into an upright position.

"Okay," she wheezed, still panting from the intense laughter. "Time to get serious, Draco."

Still slightly chuckling, Draco straightened up and looked at Hermione. Trying to ignore the kick of adrenaline that the sight of her induced, he asked, "All right. What have we got on our wonderfully exciting agenda today?"

"Nothing much," she said as she rolled her eyes. "There's just the small, insignificant task of modeling the entire Great Hall because, um, let's see, the ball is TOMORROW!"

Draco slapped a hand to his forehead. "Oh dear Merlin, I completely forgot about that!"

Hermione sighed in mock exasperation. "I suspected as much. But first," she murmured as moved closer to him, "You are going to tell me what happened last night."

"Hermione, really, there's nothing to tell…"

"Draco."

"No, really, I mean, there honestly is nothing to say."

She regarded him with flickering disbelief. "Oh, I see. So are you trying to tell me that you're in here because you accidentally glued your hand on to your penis while you were jacking off last night? Because that seems to be the only plausible situation I can imagine."

Draco flushed as he scoffed, "NO, I was not brought in here because of something that happened while I was jacking off, which, incidentally, I wasn't."

Hermione smiled in amusement as she made a hand gesture urging him to continue.

"Fine," Draco grumbled. "But you have to promise not to throw one of those common female hysterics' fits where you break everything in sight, claw me furiously with your nine-inch long talons, and then vow to skewer my nipples and burn my testicles."

Hermione stared blankly at him, her jaw dropped.

"Not that I have any personal experience in that matter," he added hastily, all the while thinking in his head, _Break ups are ugly, ugly things when it comes to veelas._

Hermione crossed her arms in impatience and shouted, "Christ, Draco, just SHUT UP and tell me what bloody happened!"

"Okay, okay, jeez," said Draco as he raised his hands in surrender. "Look, basically, this is what happened. I was in the common room, talking to Blaise, when all of a sudden, the guy jumps on top of me and starts strangling me. Well, he didn't get to do much damage since Pansy and Theodore Nott showed up at the right time and got him off me. Anyways, we found out in Dumbledore's office that he'd been Imperiused by another student and had been ordered to murder me; I'm happy to say the mission failed. Now if only the bastard responsible for all this would just once show his face …"

When Draco finished speaking, he saw that Hermione's face had gone deathly pale and that the light in her eyes had been washed out by something he could only define as horror. He took her trembling hands into his own slightly callused ones and gently squeezed them, trying to quell the shivers that were threatening to spread to other parts of her body. "Hermione," he murmured with some alarm, his grip tight on her. "What's wrong? What the hell is the matter?"

She dropped her head and let the brown waves cascade around her face to create curtains, but Draco could hear her whispering something frantically under her breath. Now extremely worried, he tilted her chin upwards and forced her to meet his gaze. "Granger, tell me _right now_ what the fuck is the matter before I call Professor Dumbledore and have you forcibly ingest Veritaserum!"

"It's him," she whispered frenziedly, her hands cold in Draco's vise-like grip. "It was him. Oh god, he did it. I can't believe he did it."

"Who, Hermione?" asked Draco urgently. "Who did what? Tell me!"

Hermione shook her head rapidly as if she was trying to keep herself quiet, but when Draco grabbed her by the shoulders and lightly shook her, she abandoned all pretenses and gave way to his questioning.

"It was Alexander, Draco," she said in a shaky voice. "Alexander was the one who Imperiused Blaise."

...

Draco had always been proud of his ability to deal with issues well. No matter how terrible the crisis, he had always managed to keep his cool and deal with the problem in a calm, orderly fashion.

Well, unless you counted the episode with Hoffschwitt. But that was the one exception in his otherwise stellar record.

But now…there was this. The timeline really was ugly: 1) Draco and Hermione were enemies for six years, 2) Draco kissed Hermione (_cue the lovey-dovey sigh that is rarely emitted in the general public_), 3) Hermione lost her memory, 4) Hermione met that fucking son of a bitch, Armani, 5) Draco and Hermione became friends (_cue the nauseatingly sweet "awwww" that seems to be quite popular with the female population, even though it's supposedly used by males too these days…sigh, what is the world coming to?_), 6) Draco and Hermione are assigned the job of organizing the Halloween Ball, 7) Draco got rid of Pansy (_I am the champion, my frieeeendsss_), 8) Draco turned into giant, heartless Douchebag Almighty and completely killed Hermione's good impression of him by asking out the human incarnation of a man-eating turd, Daphne Greengrass, 9) Draco dumped Daphne after the goddamned whore insulted Hermione, and 10) Draco discovered that he is wanted dead by the aforementioned fucking son of a bitch, Armani (_words censored as they are too potent for public viewing)_.

And thus, the Great and Majestic Draco Malfoy was standing in the Great Hall blowing up pumpkins enchanted to have Armani's face on them.

_Pumpkins. _God. His father would have been so proud…NOT.

"Draco," Hermione called from the other side of the Hall as she decorated the walls with brilliant splashes of black, gold, purple, and orange. "Could you please stop satisfying your disturbing fetish for explosions and come here?"

Savoring the final deafening KA-BOOMs made by the pumpkins, Draco sighed and walked over to where Hermione was.

"What exactly do you want me to do?" he asked in a monotone while Hermione splattered paint all over the walls with her wand.

Pivoting on the spot, Hermione gazed up at his face silently.

Draco frowned. "What is it?"

Wordlessly, Hermione pocketed her wand, stepped forward, and then wrapped her arms around his waist.

Draco stiffened in surprise before relaxing into her embrace and putting his own arms around her. He could smell a faint fragrance of strawberries in her hair, and the feel of her hands at his lower back caused his heart rate to increase ever so slightly.

"Draco," she breathed, breaking the sweet silence. "Why won't you let Professor Snape stay with you?"

Draco furrowed his eyebrows and reluctantly drew back from her comforting arms. "Hermione, I don't want a teacher shadowing me all day! I need my privacy, my space. Besides, with people doing stuff right under Dumbledore's nose, how can we expect nothing to happen with just Snape around?"

"Dumbledore's the most powerful wizard of our time," Hermione gently reminded him. "I think it shows good faith to trust him in his decisions and utilize his suggestions. Honestly Draco, is it worth your life to not allow an accomplished wizard to guard you?"

Draco thought back to the meeting they'd had earlier with the headmaster up in his office:

**FLASHBACK:**

_Dumbledore's gaze had been piercing behind those aged spectacles as he had observed Draco and Hermione. As the duo sat uncomfortably in the two less than comfy chairs in front of the headmaster's mahogany desk, Fawkes made erratic trilling noises on his gilded perch to the side, causing the silence to become even more awkward. Finally, Dumbledore latched his steady stare back on to Draco and began to speak._

"_Mr. Malfoy, I have a suggestion."_

"_Yes, Professor?" Draco asked tentatively, wondering what sort of mad idea the old loon was about to put forth._

"_I think you should allow a teacher, a trusted member of the faculty, to travel with you throughout the day, as a safeguard for your welfare. I believe Professor Snape is willing to take this job."_

_Draco didn't even try to stop the response flying out of his mouth. "No."_

"_Draco, please, listen to what Professor Dumbledore is saying," Hermione implored. "Why shouldn't you take up his offer and finally be able to walk around peacefully?"_

_Draco gritted his teeth in defiance as he turned to face her. "Hermione, I don't want to be constantly watched by some professor…I mean, Merlin knows that I don't consider myself weak, but I think that if I just stay quietly on my own, Armani will think that he's taught me a hard lesson I'll never forget and leave me alone."_

"_We do not know for sure that it is Mr. Armani, as Miss Granger says it is," Dumbledore corrected him. "Although I realize the given scenario certainly does lead to a conclusion pointing at Mr. Armani, I'm afraid nothing can be proven without another incident involving him."_

"_Well, then, there's another reason why I shouldn't be followed!" exclaimed Draco. "If I am let loose on my own just like before, maybe Armani will target me again and we'll be able to grab the bastard while he's at it!" Too late, Draco remembered he was in the presence of the school dean. "Oh, erm, sorry Professor."_

"_It's quite all right, my boy," Dumbledore said with an amused look. "I can assure you that there are many teachers here who I wouldn't doubt would curse ten times more than you had they been in such a situation, so I cannot say that I blame you much."_

_The moment Dumbledore finished speaking, Hermione clamped her hand down on Draco's shoulder and spun him around with surprising strength._

"_Now you listen to me Draco bloody Malfoy," she hissed, her fingers locked onto his poor shoulder. He could almost hear it begging for mercy. "I don't know if you find this funny or something, but your pride and flippancy is getting on the last of my blasted nerves! I don't care how much you claim to be able to look after yourself, I know for a fact that if Armani ever finds you remotely alone again, he will probably not hesitate to 'avada kedavra' you in half a second. So you say yes to Professor Dumbledore this instant before I Imperius you myself and __**make**__ you say it!"_

_This angry tirade was met with a tense silence. The corners of Dumbledore's mouth were fighting to turn up, and Draco was blinking down at Hermione, desperately attempting to somehow get his way and manage to not alienate her in the same instant._

_At last, Draco softly put his hands on her shoulders and peered into her face where he saw that her eyes were burning with stubborn resolution. "Hermione," he said quietly, his voice smooth and persuasive. "Please, don't tell me I have to do this. I am well-versed in spells and enchantments, and I am only second in ranking to you, the smartest witch of our age. I know all the tactics for protection and fighting. Please Hermione, have faith in me. Nothing will happen to me. I'm not worried at all."_

"_But I am!" she exclaimed, her eyelashes now slowly becoming wet with tears threatening to fall. "I'm worried for you, Draco. I don't want to see you lying in the hospital wing like that again, I don't want Alexander to be able to hurt you, I don't want to wake up tomorrow and hear that you're…"_

_Her voice trailed off and the unspoken word hung between them, dark and looming._

_Not caring whether he had an audience or not, Draco pulled her towards him and held her tightly, his arms creating an iron wall around her and her small hands clutching the front of his robes. "I will be safe, Hermione. Don't worry. I will be safe."_

**END FLASHBACK**

Draco realized he had been standing in one place silently for a long time, and when he turned to talk to Hermione, he saw that she had completed nearly all the preparations.

"Draco!" she shouted from the very front of the Great Hall where she was struggling to create an immense stage on her own. "I need your help here!"

Draco hurried over to her and saw that the stage wasn't fully appearing even though Hermione was performing the spell perfectly. They would have to do it together.

"All right, on my count!" he said with his wand in position. "One – two – three!"

"AETAS ADEPTO!" they both shouted at the same time. Immediately, an ornately designed stage materialized in the place of the teacher's table and Dumbledore's stand, and after it was placed properly, Hermione smiled at Draco and said, "Ah, finally this place is ready for tomorrow. I couldn't have done it without you."

Draco simply smiled and nodded back before they both checked over every last detail in the decorations and headed back to the Heads' common room for a night of well-earned sleep.

The next morning, Hermione was pleased to see that Professor McGonagall had enchanted the entire Great Hall so that the decorations had all become invisible. That way, the extraordinary glamour she and Draco had created would be unveiled at night, and everyone would truly be able to appreciate it.

As Hermione was sipping her early dose of hot chocolate with Harry and Ginny, Professor McGonagall walked by and said with a rare smile on her face, "Miss Granger, I usually do not drop compliments like this, but I wanted you to know that your and Mr. Malfoy's decorations were simply sublime. I do believe that our students are in for a magical Halloween night."

Hermione beamed at the praise. "Thank you, Professor! I will be sure to let Draco know of your approval!"

The elderly teacher gave a curt nod and smile before striding away, her surprisingly fashionable boots click-clacking on the polished floor.

"Congrats, 'Mione," Harry said when Hermione returned to her hot chocolate. "Sounds like you and *cough* Draco sealed the deal with McGonagall with this whole Halloween Ball thing. You have everything ready for tonight?"

Before Hermione could say anything, Ginny cut in indignantly, "Of course she does! I was with her when we went shopping for our outfits and dear Merlin…" she broke off grinning widely at her brown-haired friend. "When you see what a bombshell Hermione is in her costume, you are going to spit out your pumpkin juice straight into Luna's face!"

Hermione raised her eyebrows at Harry who was apparently very intrigued by his inanimate piece of toast. "You're going with Luna Lovegood? Isn't she that nice Ravenclaw with the long, light hair?"

"That's the one," Ginny confirmed with a sly wink at Harry who was still engrossed in his toast. "Harry here is quite enamored by her story-telling abilities…although I doubt that her stories have actually gotten out of the physical zone and into the verbal."

"Okay Ginny, can we PLEASE DISCONTINUE THIS CONVERSATION!" shouted a red-faced Harry as the scarlet-haired devil snickered away. His outburst was met by a sudden silence which forced him to grin weakly at the glowering McGonagall over the heads of staring students and say, "Erm, all is well?"

Once everything had resumed back to normal, Ginny eagerly started chattering again about the ball. "Speaking of dates, 'Mione, how's Alexander holding up in that area?"

Hermione unconsciously gulped once before tersely saying, "He's fine."

Ginny scoffed and put her hands on her hips. "Pssh, you can't just leave it at that, Granger! I demand to know exactly what he's done to you so far! You can't just expect to keep me happy with a 'he's fine', damn it! And _please_ tell me you guys have kissed at least once."

Now it was Hermione's turn to glow red as she choked down the remaining marshmallows in the hot chocolate. Over the rim of her mug, she could see Harry diligently searching for something to distract himself with, and she didn't blame him. When Ginny Weasley wanted details, she wanted _hard-core, explicit details._

"Yes, we have kissed," Hermione mumbled gracelessly. "But nothing more, I swear."

Ginny looked to the heavens in exasperation. "You think I'm your mummy or something that I'm asking you to take a celibacy vow, Hermione? What sort of seventh-year gets a boyfriend and just kisses him over a span of weeks? I mean, Merlin knows he's hot as hell, so why wouldn't you want to club him over the head, seize him by his tie, rip his clothes off with your teeth, and make hot passionate love to him for hours and hours without end?"

"Incredibly tempting as that might sound, Ginny, Hermione's not that kind of girl and I appreciate that about her," said a voice behind the frozen redhead and brunette.

Taking an unnecessarily deep breath, Hermione swiveled around in her seat and came face-to-face with…a crotch? Hastily averting her eyes, she craned her head back and saw a face she had come to loathe and dread.

Ginny noticed the lack of communication between the two and quickly leaped forward, babbling at high speed, "Oh my gosh, hi Alexander, we were just talking about you, and oh Merlin, I was just joking around I swear! I mean, of course Hermione isn't that kind of girl, I was just trying to get her to see it in a different level, because you must know that a lot of girls fantasize about doing to you what I just mentioned, and yeah, I get the feeling I should be shutting up right now because Hermione is glaring at me and Harry is trying to back away and you're looking at me like I just told you I want to pleasure myself with a firewhiskey bottle!"

Hermione nearly fell out of her seat. "Ginevra Molly Weasley, will you kindly _shut the fuck up?_"

Abashed, Ginny sat back down and murmured demurely, "Right. Yeah. Sorry."

Alexander laughed as he sat on the other side of Hermione, much to her discomfort. "I must say Hermione, you have quite the motley band of friends: two members of the historic Golden Trio, a delightfully charming Gryffindor goddess, and certain Slytherins…"

Hermione could hear the steel in his voice, but she didn't want to make waves in front of her friends, so she rapidly changed the subject. "Erm, Alexander, have you fixed everything for your costume?"

He grinned down at her in a disconcertingly white flash of teeth. "Yes, of course. I've decided to go as Odysseus from the great Greek legends, and so I'll be dressed up with all the needed accessories, like a sword, helmet, and whatnot."

"How do you know about Odysseus?" Hermione asked, bemused. She knew that the Muggle Studies course did not include Greek mythology, and also knew that Alexander wasn't even enrolled in that class.

"My aunt was a great patron of mythology and legends, and her favorite pastime was sitting in her favorite armchair by the blazing fire and reading the age-old tales of Penelope, Odysseus, the Cyclops, and more. Naturally, the stories were eventually told to me, and it became a routine for her to sit down with me in the hearth and regale me with the ancient epics whenever she visited." He spoke with a hint of nostalgia and something else in his tone that Hermione could not place, but she did not brood over it.

All of a sudden, Harry broke in and asked Alexander, "Hey, Alexander. How did those spells work out for you? You get the hang of them yet?"

The Italian boy got to his feet and smiled as he nodded. "Yeah, man, thanks for that by the way. I think with just a bit more practice I'll be good to go. It was awfully nice of you to teach me those."

Harry shrugged. "Don't mention it."

"Well, I've got to go," Alexander announced. He swooped down on Hermione and kissed her on the cheek before waving at Ginny and Harry and traipsing away.

After he left, Ginny faced Hermione with her hands clasped together and a mock simpering expression on her face, but Hermione was deep in troubled thought and had all her attention focused on Harry now.

"What did he mean, Harry?" she asked once he had finished gobbling up his scrambled eggs. "What sort of spells was he talking about?"

"Oh it was nothing," Harry said casually. "He just came up to me yesterday and told me about how he had heard that I'd learned some really amazing spells last year and that he wished to learn them, so I taught him a few."

Hermione could feel her heart already beating faster in a slight panic, and she strove to keep her voice normal as she questioned, "And what spells did you teach him?"

"Just a few," Harry said before listing them off. "Let's see, I taught him 'muffliato', 'levicorpus', 'langlock', and hmm, what else?"

"Was that all?" Hermione said anxiously, even though she had begun breathing steadily again out of relief. "Just those three?"

"No, no, there was one more…" Harry muttered as he tried to remember.

"What was it? 'Liberacorpus'?"

Harry shook his head. "No, it wasn't that."

Hermione bit her lip and stared at her uneaten bagel. _I'm just being ridiculous,_ she thought. _Harry just taught him those few spells, so why am I worrying? There's nothing to be anxious about, this is just another humiliating episode of me being neurotic._

The trio sat there quietly for a while, simply munching on little tidbits lying around on their plates, when Hermione decided she had had enough of breakfast.

"Okay, guys, I'm off to potions! Let's hope Snape is a bit more amenable than usually today…can't have him ruin the mood by getting detentions, now can we?"

Her two mates smiled and waved at her before returning to their food. A minute later, just as Hermione was leaving the Great Hall, she heard someone running behind her and turned to see Harry.

"Harry! What's up?"

Harry stopped in front of her and said solemnly, "I remember what that last spell I taught him was."

Hermione could feel her eyes widening marginally. "What was it?"

"Sectumsempra'."

...

Draco's examination of himself in the bathroom mirror was providing to be very irksome. The mirror, apparently female, was sighing and gasping all the while as he scrutinized every angle of himself, and he finally got it to shut up by threatening to blow it to bits if it didn't keep its loud admiration to itself. He had to admit though, he was definitely going to be one of the best (if not THE best) dressed guys at the ball that night. He had chosen to dress as Poseidon, Greek god of the sea, and atop his head was a regal crown studded with real jewels that gave his gleaming teeth a run for their money. He had donned an expertly designed toga that managed to look both masculine and majestic at the same time, and the fabric was enchanted to look as if sparkling water were running over it. In his hand was a mighty trident painted a brilliant gold, and his feet were encased in very pricey authentic sandals that he'd bullied a shop owner into selling him.

Hey, whatever it takes to look good, right?

Satisfied with his appearance, Draco spritzed himself with his favorite cologne and stepped out of the bathroom, nearly colliding with someone in the process.

Automatically apologizing as he smoothed down his clothes, he lifted his head up to see the most beautiful creature. She was wearing a gorgeous ensemble consisting of a long, flowing skirt surrounding a much shorter, tighter miniskirt and what looked like a string top. Although he was nearly blinded by the dazzling twinkles blooming all over her outfit, his thirsty eyes finally found her face and drank the beauty there.

He was speechless.

The goddess smiled at him and Draco could feel his insides turning to piddling puddles of glop. When she opened her mouth to speak, he refrained himself from attacking her and ruthlessly kissing her.

"Draco," she said, her voice now as familiar to his ears as his own. "What's wrong? Do I look good?"

He wordlessly opened and closed his mouth a few times, simply unable to say anything. _Congratulations, _he thought furiously in his head. _And the first prize for The Most Idiotic Dipshit of the Night goes to…DRACO MALFUCKER!_

He cleared his throat and willed himself not to sound like he was going through puberty again. "You're…beautiful, Hermione. Beautiful."

The smile that spread across her face at his words could only be described as perfect, because at that moment, that was the only word registering in Draco's head.

She extended a lightly glittering arm and broke his trance. "Will you do me the honor of escorting me to the ball, milord?"

Firmly grabbing a hold on himself, he gave her what he hoped was his sexiest smirk and tucked her arm under his. "Let's get this party started."

The opening ceremony had been average in Draco's opinion, although no one could deny that his and Hermione's entrance had been by far the most impressive of all. Once Dumbledore had completed the mandatory rules and regulations speech, the Vampires (which, thankfully, were actually on time) readied their first song which turned out to be a slow Muggle one.

Draco grinned at Hermione and led her onto the dance floor for the first dance. The entire student body remained hushed as he placed his hand on her waist and she lightly rested hers on his shoulder.

And then, the music began.

_Wise men say_

_Only fools rush in,_

_But I can't help_

_Falling in love with you…_

_Shall I stay?_

_Would it be a sin,_

_If I can't help_

_Falling in love with you…_

Never breaking eye contact, Draco and Hermione nimbly glided over the floor, their hearts and feet keeping time to the soft interwined sounds of piano and an ethereal chorus.

Then Hermione moved closer to him and whispered almost inaudibly, "I love this song."

He said nothing in response, merely kept her locked with his steady gaze, but he knew that his eyes spoke in return for him.

_Like a river flows_

_Surely to the sea,_

_Darling, so it goes_

_Some things are meant to be…_

_Take my hand,_

_Take my whole life too,_

_For I can't help _

_Falling in love with you…_

_For I can't help_

_Falling in love with you…_

Even after the song ended, the two remained frozen, still lost in each other's eyes. Finally, Draco leaned down and kissed Hermione on the cheek before saying in low tones, "I love it too."

Ignoring the quiet murmurs and chatters running through the spectators, he walked off with Hermione following him and sat down at a table in a far corner. He barely had a few moments with her though before Armani approached the table and said, "Sweet Merlin, Hermione, you're looking absolutely gorgeous!"

Hermione blushed (to Draco's outrage) and mumbled, "Why, thank you, Alexander. You are also quite the dashing warrior tonight, hm?"

Draco didn't know if he was imagining it or not but it seemed like her voice was sort of strained. But then again, she was conversing with the dickhead who was probably trying to kill him, so maybe she really was tense after all. And as for the blowhard's costume…well. Armani's costume caused him to seem more muscular and chivalrous than he really was, but Draco had also read some Greek epics as well, and he knew that Odysseus' wit and craftiness was no match for the sea god's wrath.

_So suck that, arseface!_

Unfortunately, by this time Armani had somehow gotten Hermione to go dancing with him, so Draco was left simmering in a pool of self-pity and vengeance after receiving an apologetic look from Hermione. The absence was filled in a short time by Blaise and Ginny who both actually did not resemble mangled, rabid escapees from the jungles of Africa like Draco had thought they would.

"Hey, Draco, what's up?" Blaise greeted him as he dumped his fur-covered backside onto a chair.

"Shmeh," was Draco's divinely worded response.

Ginny shot him a weird look. "Come on, Malfoy, I know for a fact that the firewhiskey hasn't been cracked open yet, so why are you looking like you downed all the shots in the Hog's Head?"

Draco made a noise in the back of his throat he didn't even know he could make, and Blaise graciously translated it for Ginny. "Er, he's ticked off at someone, and I think I know who that someone is."

The she-cat raised her heavily painted eyebrows in curiosity. "Well, I'm certainly intrigued. What's got you in a tizzy, Draco? Gotten your date stolen?"

Draco glared down relentlessly at the innocent skull-adorned tablecloth, but Blaise smoothly replied, "Ah, whatever. Let it alone, Gin. He'll be fine. Anyways Draco, I wanted to tell you that you and Hermione have done a fantastic job with the organizing. I wouldn't be surprised if you're forced to organize some sort of farewell party as well, mate."

Draco waved a hand dismissively, still intent on devising plans for annihilating Armani. "It was really Hermione who did the work. I just added on a few random ideas."

"Whoever's responsible," Ginny said, throwing her arm out to indicate the whole room. "This is great! Everyone seems to be having a good time." She looked back at Draco's surly face. "Well, _almost_ everyone."

At that moment, Hermione returned slightly out of breath with Armani smirking at her side. "I'm not dancing anymore tonight," she announced as she dragged over a chair and sat down.

"Dobby?" she called out. Immediately the elf appeared and bowed. "Yes, Miss Granger, what can I do for you?"

"A butterbeer," she requested with a smile. "And please, make it frothy."

Dobby swept his small cap off and bowed again. "Not to worry, lovely Miss Granger." He snapped his fingers, and a glass of frothy, golden butterbeer floated towards Hermione. "Have a good night, all of you," he said with a final bow before vanishing in a pop.

Ginny tugged on Blaise's sleeve. "Let's go to the punch bowl, Blaise, I'm thirsty."

"Sure," Blaise agreed as he stood up. He turned to Draco who was subtly watching Hermione out of the corner of his eye. "You want to come?"

"I –" Draco's words were stopped by Armani who intervened, "No, just a moment."

Draco watched as Armani pulled out his wand and raised it in the air. Instantly, Ginny, Blaise, and Draco drew theirs out too.

"All right, mate," Blaise said uneasily. "What's this all about?"

Armani chuckled sinisterly, his wand still raised and his hand unmoving. "I think you know damn well what this is all about. But first, a few precautions…" He pointed his wand over Blaise's head at the crowd and muttered, "Frustro finis."

After a few seconds, Ginny snarled, "What the hell did you just do?"

Hermione, who had sat white-faced until then, said in a halting voice, "It's an enchantment that creates an illusionary boundary between two parties. They'll never be able to hear or see what's really going on here, nor will they be able to intervene should a problem arise." She extracted her own wand in a single fluid motion and directed it straight at Armani's heart. "In short, it's a tricking wall."

Armani laughed the same chilly, fake laugh again. "My darling Hermione, you have no idea how intelligent you really are. Honestly, did you fall into a bucket of Intelligentsia Potion when you were born?"

"No," she hissed, so angry she was shaking and causing the beads on her skirt to rattle against one another. "If I were that intelligent, I would have known how to kill you the instant I saw you."

"So bloody feisty," Armani grumbled. He took a step towards her, but before he could get too close, Draco quickly stepped in the way and jabbed his wand into the skin of the bastard's neck.

"Touch her," Draco breathed with a hatred burning in his throat only he could know. "Touch her and I will kill you."

"Oooh, goody, isn't this exciting?" Armani sneered while moving back two steps. "The noble Slytherin snake wants to defend his lady love. How romantic."

"The only snake here," retorted Blaise, "Is you, you bastard."

"Tch, tch," Armani sighed, his wand now pointing at Blaise. "I forgot about the rest of you annoying blighters. Can't have you brandishing those things at me, now can we? Accio wands!"

Draco cursed as the sudden spell caught them off-guard and wrenched their wands away from their grasps. Now standing with four wands in his left hand, Armani smirked at all of them in turn and then rapidly shouted "Incarcerous" causing Ginny to shriek and become tightly bound with tough ropes.

Blaise started towards her but found himself unable to move beyond a single step from his position. "You fucking cocksucker," he swore furiously, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. "Let her fucking go!"

Alexander chortled with delight upon seeing Blaise's anger, and started tossing his wand up into the air and catching it. "Nope, sorry, Blaise, no can do. Like I said, I can't have you guys actually be able to hurt me, now can I? Not when I have something as glorious as this in my possession." He wrenched Hermione's arm and made her stand next to him, much to her evident disgust.

Draco barely managed to keep himself from lashing out at the scumbag. He watched as Hermione seethed, "Alexander, I swear, for Merlin's sake, stop this nonsense and let us out of here. This has gone too far."

"Yes, this has gone too far!" Armani roared as he grabbed her by her elbows. "After everything I told you about those bloody Slytherins, you still consorted with them! How dare you completely go against me? You stupid, stupid girl!"

"You can't fucking tell me what to do! I am not your servant!" she screamed back. "I hate you! I hate you!"

"That's it!" Armani shouted lividly. "I've had enough of you, you bitch!" And with that, he flung his hand out and struck with Hermione with such force, she fell to the ground with yelp and clutched her head in painful agony.

Draco lunged forward with an enraged yell, ready to choke the living daylights out of the dickhead smirking in front of him, and found that he had no boundary in front of him. But before he could rip Armani's throat to shreds, he was thrown back by an unforeseen Stunning spell.

"Draco!" Hermione shrieked from the floor with her hand outstretched in his direction.

Armani delivered a vicious kick to her hand that surely shattered a bone or two in her fingers. "You STILL care for him, Granger? DAMN YOU!"

"Please," she sobbed, "Don't do this to us. He's done nothing wrong. He isn't the person you think he is!"

Draco groggily lifted his head, confused and disoriented. What was happening? What was going on?

"People like him never change, Hermione," Alexander growled after her sobs had subsided. "Cruelty and evilness course through their veins like blood runs through ours. If monsters like him were subject to change, then perhaps the international death tolls would have been drastically less. Perhaps, then, my parents would still be alive. My dear aunt would still be –" His voice caught on the last word, but he skirted over it by roughly clearing his throat and regaining his former icy tone. "I have had enough of his sort of filth defiling the names of respected members of the wizarding society. Perhaps Draco Malfoy has never murdered anyone, but the fact that he has a nexus to the world of the Dark Lord is reason enough to execute him for the greater good."

With those words, Armani raised his wand again and stared down at Draco who was lying paralyzed. "It must be so liberating," Armani snarled, "To be able to die early so that you can return even faster to your master's arms. Enjoy the fiery depths of hell, Malfoy. Your pasty face could use the tan."

As Alexander opened his mouth once more to utter the curse that would finalize Draco's fate, Draco saw the greatest moments of his life flash before his eyes: his first broom, entering Hogwarts, winning his first Quidditch match, kissing Hermione, and seeing her one last time before he closed his eyes forever.

Draco saw Armani inhale just before crying, "SECTUMSEMPRA!"

Draco squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for the excruciating pain to overtake his senses and cloud all feeling before leading him to the point of no return. He had felt the effect of his curse only once before in his life when Potter had hurled the curse at him in sixth-year. Lying there, bleeding profusely in the stagnant water of the bathroom, staring helplessly up at the cobwebbed ceiling while Potter lay stricken with shock…it had been the single most devastating moment in his life…until now.

But the pain never came.

And Draco only found out why when he opened his eyes and saw the brown curls floating in a rich pool of blood, the slim body sprawled on the ground, and the chocolate eyes with their flickering flecks of light opened and whizzing around erratically.

The cry that ripped out from Draco's throat never ended even after the lights faded and spiraled away and the entire world went black.

Dear Everyone, thank you for reading this much! It shows that you are not _quite_ disgusted by my lack of attention, as I would be if I were in your positions. No, this story is not over yet. There is one more chapter, but only God knows when it will come…not very helpful, I know. But please, don't lose hope! I will prevail against the evil forces of high school.

Thank you again everyone, and please, don't forget to review to let me know what you think! And yes, this chapter is long, but hey, anything to make up for my long absence.

See you!


	15. Because You Loved Me

CHAPTER 15

Draco didn't know where he was, but he was flying through twisting labyrinths of flashing lights and inky blackness. He had the most peculiar feeling of falling yet running forward at the same time, and he could hear words being gently spoken through the roars of what sounded like thunder booming all around him. He vaguely wondered if he was on his way to heaven or hell.

"It's been two days, professor, and neither one of them have woken up yet. Why aren't they waking up?" This voice sounded young and familiar, but it was wracked with tension.

Then, a much more aged and calm voice spoke, "You must give them time, Harry. Mr. Malfoy has experienced a bitter ordeal, and Mr. Armani was unfortunately able to cause some damage with his final spell. As for Miss Granger…well, Professor Snape is doing his best, Harry. But it seems that Mr. Armani performed the curse even more powerfully than you had last year, thus Severus is finding it difficult to rectify everything."

An anxious, high-pitched female voice arose. "Please, professor, do something! What if they never wake up?"

The wizened man appeared to have cleared his throat before saying soothingly, "Miss Weasley, you must keep faith. These two are very strong individuals and I, for one, am not worried about their recovery."

Draco hovered tantalizingly close to recognizing the speakers, but just as he neared the names, he fell backwards into another maze of never-ending bends and turns before drowning in an onyx sky of angels silently singing.

_Wake up, wake up, wake up…_

_..._

Draco felt himself struggling to open his eyes, but they felt as if they were sewn tightly across the lids. Taking a quick breath to prepare himself, he tore through the seams and weakly gazed through his eyelashes up at a blanket of swirling white and gold.

_Could I really be in heaven,_ he wondered in awe just as a yell broke through the quiet atmosphere.

"PROFESSOR, PROFESSOR, COME QUICK! DRACO'S FINALLY AWAKE!"

This painful (to Draco's wretched, unaccustomed ears) outburst was met by a quick reprimand. "Mr. Zabini, as excited as I know you are, I cannot have you sounding like a rabid chimp amidst my patients!"

Draco finally realized that Blaise was sitting next to him and strained to fully open his eyes as the other boy answered contritely, "Sorry, Madame Pomfrey. But he really _is_ awake. Alive, at least. Come and see!"

He heard the sound of someone being pushed aside (a small "oof" from Blaise), and felt a cool fabric being pressed to his forehead. "Come, come, Mr. Malfoy," Madame Pomfrey urged, dabbing away at his face. "It's high time you woke up. Look at all the people waiting for you. That's it," she chirped as he widened his eyes, blinking rapidly to steady his vision. "That's more like it. I must say, Mr. Malfoy, you have quite the dedicated group of friends."

Madame Pomfrey slowly helped Draco sit up and placed multiple plump pillows behind him to give him support. The first face Draco saw was Blaise's, but then he noticed more people surrounding his bed: Harry, Ron, Ginny, Theodore, Pansy, and even Daphne (though he didn't bother to acknowledge her). Harry was looking at him gratefully, his green eyes unusually red, but Ron had his face buried in his hands and remained silent. Ginny and Pansy both bore tear-stained faces but awarded him watery smiles that Draco knew took a lot of effort to maintain. Theodore, obviously not comfortable with public displays of affection, simply nodded at him once before staring back down at his shoes, and Daphne wore a ridiculous expression on her face – a contorted combination of adoration and snobbery.

Finally, Draco looked over everyone's heads to see Dumbledore watching him. As Draco sat there on the bed, his mind still moving at a more sluggish pace than usual, Dumbledore quietly herded everyone out of the infirmary, stating that the patients needed an undisturbed atmosphere now.

Once they all had grumbled and left, Dumbledore returned to where Draco was and conjured up a dark green armchair to sit in. "Good afternoon, Draco."

Draco coughed a little before clearing his throat and rasping, "Hello, Professor Dumbledore."

"How do you feel?"

"Been better."

"I don't doubt that. You had quite an encounter at the Halloween Ball, and I daresay it has taken you a good length of time to get a handle on your recovery since then."

Draco groaned almost imperceptibly as his arms began aching, but Dumbledore did not fail to notice it. "I see your injuries haven't been entirely healed yet. I'm afraid that there's nothing to do for them really, and you will have to remain here for perhaps three or four more days before you are discharged."

"What happened to Armani?" Draco mumbled, fully aware that he sounded like someone was grating away his voice box with sandpaper.

Dumbledore sighed. "He has been properly taken care of. I think Azkaban has found a suitable cell for his stay of two years in the company of the ever-so-friendly dementors. I only wish I'd noticed the problem at the ball earlier. Just before Professor Flitwick was able to destroy the enchanted wall, Mr. Armani managed to hit you with a strong knock-out spell that caused you to pass out before we could reach you. Mr. Zabini and Miss Weasley are perfectly fine, as you saw, but I'm afraid even with Professor Snape's expertise, Miss Granger's condition is an entirely different and delicate situation."

With a terrible jolt of remembrance, Draco violently started forward and gasped. "HERMIONE! How – how is she?" He whipped his head around frantically, searching for the girl who now meant more to him than anything ever had. "Please, Professor," he begged, dismissing all pride and haughtiness. "I need to see her. Please, tell me, where is she?"

Dumbledore wordlessly pointed to a bed confined by three large screens at the other side of spacious room. Without a moment's hesitation, Draco threw off his covers and hobbled his way over to the designated bed, ignoring the throbbing stings pricking at his legs and chest. Just before he reached the screens, he glanced back once to see Dumbledore noiselessly bolting the door before leaving. Now uninhibited and losing sensation in his calves, Draco tugged away the screen on the left, stumbled through the opening, and nearly lost his breath all over again when he saw the heart-breaking sight in front of him.

There she was…peaceful, oblivious, and impossibly beautiful…the diamond in the rough.

Her head was wrapped in a thin bandage to help a wound on her forehead heal, but what made Draco panic the most was that her entire torso was bound by thick, opaque bandages stained in numerous spots by scarlet blood. He watched with relief as her chest slowly rose and fell while she breathed, and he laid his hand on top of hers, her fingers icy compared to his warmer ones.

"She isn't out of danger yet," someone intoned next to Draco.

Startled, Draco snatched his hand back and looked up to see his godfather staring down at Hermione's tranquil face. "Haven't you – haven't you done something?" Draco asked in a trembling voice.

Snape's face maintained its impassive expression. "Of course I have. But I am unsure as to what extent my remedies are working. Such curses do not always come with perfect cures, and she has very little time left."

"But it's your damn spell!" Draco nearly shouted out of frustration. Why was Snape treating this like a simple classroom assignment? Why was he acting like he didn't care? "You created it, so you must have made some sort of counter-curse or something!"

Snape shook his head, his hair lightly swishing from one side to the other, and answered in his typical monotone, "I never intended for anyone to use this spell other than me, Draco. And believe me when I say that I reserved this curse for those who truly deserved the pain. There is nothing more I can do now than improvise on my old ideas and watch as things pan out."

Draco felt like shaking the older man until his teeth rattled. He stood up and glared daggers into his godfather's face as he pointed at Hermione who was still in a deep slumber. "Look at her," he spat with an unforgiving undertone. "There she lies, continually bleeding, so exhausted she can hardly keep herself breathing, not yet broken, but on the verge of being so…and all you can say is there's nothing more you can do! Do you feel nothing? Do you not see the pain that is written across her face? Do you not understand the pain that _I _feel, that I'm enduring...?"

Something flickered behind the fathomless black beads through Snape's mask of apathy. Snape avoided meeting Draco's scrutiny, but said almost inaudibly as he continued to gaze down at Hermione's dozing form, "I know exactly how it feels. I know this pain very well."

Draco, still breathing heavily from the mixture of pain and anger that was overflowing within him, watched as Snape turned his head and saw what was written all over the man's countenance: sorrow.

"I remember her," Snape whispered, his lips barely moving. "The way her red hair would ripple in the sunlight, the way her green eyes would glow whenever she was excited, the way…" He bowed his head and choked, unable to speak any longer.

Extremely confused, Draco gingerly sat down on the edge of Hermione's bed. "I don't understand," he mumbled. "Who are you talking about?"

Snape raised his head and Draco fleetingly saw a single tear slide down his godfather's cheek. "Lily Potter," Snape uttered. In those two words, Draco heard a thousand emotions cascade through the air: anguish, nostalgia, passion, longing, and most importantly, a very deep love. But as he registered Snape's reply, he felt shocked. Severus Snape was in love with Lily Potter? What alternate universe was this!

"What ever happened to you both?" Draco asked tentatively. He had never seen this side of the professor before.

Snape hurriedly wiped away the traitorous teardrop clinging to his jaw and rearranged his features back into the bourgeois indifference. When he spoke, his tone was cold and hard. "We grew up."

_Wow. I've never seen him so __**vulnerable**__ before. _

**Yeah, it's like he's a whole new man. Who knew Severus Snape actually has a heart? **

_I'm worried, Draco. Do you think he'll find something for Hermione? What if…_

**Shut up. Don't even go there. You know damn well nothing is going to happen to her. Snape will figure out something; he isn't an accredited Potions master for nothing, you know. Besides, Hermione wouldn't let You-Know-Who stop her, much less that Italian dickhead!**

_You're right. I just need to stop being so nervous and buck up. But what the hell are we doing here, sitting around like we're discussing the flipping weather? Get your head out of the clouds and make that relative of yours get to work! We CANNOT let Hermione give up!_

Draco shook his head to clear all other thoughts as he said firmly, "Professor, it's time you returned to concocting a remedy for Hermione. Don't worry, I'll stay here with her, but please, let's not waste any more time."

Snape nodded quickly before turning on his heel and exiting in a swoosh of his long, black cloak. Once Draco was sure that there was no one else around, he dragged his chair closer to the bed and laid his head down on the large pillow next to Hermione's. He could feel his own tears threatening to plummet to the sheets while he softly stroked Hermione's pale cheek, and he'd nearly fallen asleep when he felt an infinitesimal movement next to him. Rapidly pushing himself off the bed, he examined Hermione's face intently and searched for some small sign that would tell him that he hadn't imagined the twitch. However, after a minute or so, Draco sighed dejectedly and covered his face in his hands, angry with his mind for playing tricks on him.

He stayed like that, unmoving, when the most incredible thing happened. He heard a small moan.

Now on his feet, Draco gripped Hermione's hand in his and willed all of the powers of the universe to wake the girl who was currently breathing a bit faster than before. "Hermione, Hermione, please," he called, those damned tears making their way out onto the planes of his cheekbones. "Hermione, please wake up. We're all waiting for you. _I'm_ waiting for you. Damn it, wake up!"

To his amazement, it seemed as if she'd actually heard him, for after he finished talking, she began to open her eyes painstakingly and slowly. After what felt like all of eternity repeating itself, Draco finally found himself lost in the most entrancing pair of mahogany orbs he'd ever seen.

"Hermione," he breathed. "Hermione, it's me."

She smiled warmly before exhaling and saying faintly, "I was waiting for you. I knew you'd come."

Draco fell into the chair and tightened his grasp on her hand. He was alarmed at how brittle she felt. He fought to keep his emotions under control as he said, "How do you feel, Hermione? What do you want me to do for you? Tell me what to get you!"

She shook her head twice. "Just stay," she said. "Don't leave me, Draco."

He pressed his lips to her hand and promised fiercely, "I will never leave you!"

Hermione smiled again, but suddenly arched her back and let out a strangled cry. "Hermione!" Draco shouted just as she dropped back to the bed, panting.

"No, don't worry, Draco," she wheezed with her forehead crumpled in pain. "I'm fine. Just please, don't leave me alone here."

"I won't," he whispered. He felt so distraught. The torment of watching Hermione writhe in spasmodic bouts of burning agony was gradually eating away his heart. Why did it have to be her? He would have gladly offered himself as a substitute for her, if it just meant having her rid of this anguish, this incessant pulsing of hurt.

Hermione reached up and touched her forefinger to his face where a tear was steadily descending. "Oh, now, what's this? Why are there tears in your eyes, Draco?"

Draco swallowed the immense lump stuck in his throat and choked down his sobs. "I – I can't help it, Hermione. It just hurts so much to see you like this. You don't deserve any of this, Hermione, not a single fucking ounce of it!" He voiced his earlier thought. "Why did it have to be you?"

She said nothing, but merely mustered up the strength to lift her arms. Draco instantly knew what she wanted and draped his body across the left side of the bed, holding her as gently as a mother held her newborn.

He had his face buried into the smooth expanse of her shoulder when she abruptly opened her mouth and began to sing weakly into his ear:

_Wise men say_

_Only fools rush in_

_But I can't help_

_Falling in love with you…_

She paused in an effort to regulate her breathing and then continued, her words flowing pure and sweet, but the sounds so broken and feeble.

_Shall I stay?_

_Would it be a sin, _

_If I can't help _

_Falling in love with you…_

_For I can't help_

_Falling in love with you…_

It was the final straw for Draco; he just couldn't hold back any longer. Without warning, his sobs exploded onto her neck and he lay there creating waterfalls on her skin. He felt her shake a tiny bit beside him and knew that she was crying too. Hating his weakness, he drew back from her tired arms and wiped his eyes on the thin fabric of the infirmary outfit. "I'm sorry, Hermione, I'm no good at this declaring my feelings stuff. I'm not like Blaise or Theo who send their girlfriends chocolates and complimentary sonnets. I'm not like Harry who regularly hugs and snogs his girlfriend no matter how crowded of a place they're in, I'm not – "

"Draco Malfoy," Hermione chuckled quietly, the brown of her eyes glistening with pearls of unshed droplets. "Will you just **shut up** and say it!"

Draco froze. His mind raced as his heart urged him to say what he'd been keeping bottled up for so long. _Do it, Draco, do it! Say it! SAY IT!_

And at long last, the timeless words that sculpt the destinies of gods and men fell from Draco Malfoy's lips.

"I love you."

...

As Draco said the historic words, he leaned in to kiss her but immediately noticed something was amiss. Seeing that she had closed her eyes again and wasn't opening them confirmed his suspicions, but it wasn't until he lowered his gaze and saw that her chest had stopped rising and falling that he really flew into action.

Letting his adrenaline take the place of all the aches in his body, Draco swerved out from behind the screens and yelled wildly, "PROFESSOR SNAPE! PROFESSOR SNAPE!"

A dark shadow emerged from behind the doors of Madame Pomfrey's office and spoke, "What? What is it!"

Draco dashed to where the professor was standing with his wand in his hand and panted with horror, "It's her! She's not breathing!"

Snape cursed under his breath and raced back to Hermione with Draco struggling to keep his feet moving at his side. Not wasting any time, Snape first felt for Hermione's pulse, which was thankfully there, and then grazed his wand back and forth over Hermione's body muttering what sounded like complex spells under his breath. Draco watched, petrified, as parts of Hermione's body began flashing in glaring reds and greens.

Now keeping his hands suspended above Hermione, Snape closed his eyes and silently mouthed nonverbal incantations, a few of which Draco recognized through his haze of dread: "neurona preservus", "corpus sanus preservus", and "viscus fortis".

Suddenly, Snape barked, "Draco! Run and get the small cauldron sitting on the floor in the office. Run!"

In a flash, Draco gritted his teeth and sprinted towards the office. Once inside the small room, he grabbed hold of a tiny, black cauldron filled halfway with an unpleasant smelling purple liquid and half-ran and half-walked back to Snape.

The moment Draco sat the cauldron down on the floor, Snape used his wand to slash through the bandages on Hermione's trunk. Draco could feel himself turning a light shade of green. This was wrong, it was indecent to expose Hermione's bare chest in such a vulgar way. He tried to look away, but Snape made that impossible by handing Draco his wand and commanding him to keep it trained on Hermione in order to sustain the flashing lights for as long as possible.

Then, Draco watched as Snape used a ladle to scoop up some of the purple goo-like substance and poured it on the lit wounds covering Hermione's otherwise flawless complexion. Draco heard Snape sigh in relief as one by one, the flashes abated and the deep gashes on her stomach and chest began shrinking. But although the curse's effects were beginning to subside, Snape commenced reciting the former spells over and over again as if building wall after wall of resistance around Hermione.

After endless minutes ticked away, Snape finally concluded his incantations by replacing Hermione's worn, stained bandages with fresh, white ones. Exhausted and emotionally drained, Draco thrust the wand in his hand at the older man and fell to his knees next to the bed. He stared at Hermione who was breathing normally again while Snape aimed his wand at her one final time and wearily said, "Enervate."

In a few seconds, Hermione stirred marginally before rising and smiling at Draco and Professor Snape. Draco almost forgot how to breathe when Hermione haltingly rotated herself on the bed so that her feet were finally over the floor and weakly stepped down to kneel next to him. Snape took the cue and stepped out of the little enclosure.

"Draco," she whispered as she cupped his face in her now warm palm, "Before we talk about anything else, will you do something very important for me right now?"

Feeling his heart sink as he thought that she would want to see Harry and the others now, Draco nodded in resignation. "Of course I'll go get them. Hold on."

She grabbed hold of his arm and kept him kneeling. "No!" she exclaimed. "I mean, yes, I'll see them, but not now…right now, I have something else in mind."

Suddenly, Draco's sinking heart found a foothold somewhere in the figurative quicksand and lugged itself back up to the space behind his ribcage.

"What exactly could that be?" he said, very aware that she was a hair's breadth away from him.

She grinned at him, her gaze locked onto his lips. "Something I've wanted you to do for a very, _very_ long time."

That was all the encouragement Draco needed. Without further ado, he practically pounced on her and kissed her as if his life depended on it. Being careful as to not press down in any way on the tender areas of her still recovering body, he rested his hands on her forearms and pulled her as close as possible to his body without actually touching her, all the while snogging her with so much abandon that apparently someone felt the need to ruin the moment by saying, "They get any closer and they won't need to haul off to a corner somewhere to have sex."

Hermione released herself from Draco's steamy embrace and sat back, her eyes unnaturally bright and her cheeks flushed a brilliant red.

Draco turned around with a snarl and yanked the screens away to reveal a group of what he considered miserable miscreants huddling around the bed. At the foot of the bed stood a smirking Blaise Zabini with his arm around Ginny who was hosting obvious google-eyes. However, as soon as Hermione came into everyone's line of vision, the redhead screamed and flung herself on top of Hermione who didn't say anything, but simply rocked back a bit with her own arms wrapped tightly around Ginny.

After Ginny let go of Hermione, she cried, "Hermione! Oh my god, you're all right! We were so damn worried about you, 'Mione, I can't even begin to explain it."

Hermione didn't reply, but still sat there, her eyes now gaining a frenzied touch and her bottom lip quivering.

Draco crouched to the floor, swiveled Hermione around, and shook her lightly. "Hermione? Hermione! What's wrong? What is it?"

"Don't worry, Draco," Professor Snape said with what sounded almost like _cheerfulness_ in his tone. "I think Miss Granger is finally retrieving her memories."

Everyone gasped at once, but no one felt a greater shock than Draco.

_But…but…you realize what that means, Draco? Your kiss actually jumpstarted her memory! You! Your kiss! You brought back her memory, mate! YOU DID IT!_

**You know what this means, don't you,** the other voice said quietly with suppressed disappointment. **You'll be nothing to her again, just like before. She'll return to her old group of friends, you'll retire to your old Slytherin clan, and it will all go back to the way it was before all of this.**

_Think about that later! Hermione is finally waking up for real!_

Exactly. Hermione was finally emerging from the clouds that had muddled her memories for so long. No longer would her friends have to randomly bring up topics from over the years to somehow get her brain to start working again. No longer would the teachers have to thrown on facades of happiness whenever she walked by. No more would she have to suffer from the curse of a forgotten past…

**But this means… she'll no longer be in love with you. Once those memories fully return, she'll still somewhat despise you like she did before, you know that. What Armani told her was true enough. You have ties to the Dark Lord, to Death Eaters galore, and to everything Dumbledore and all the good people in this world have worked against. You're not worthy of her anymore, Draco. You're not worthy.**

_But – but that kiss on the Quidditch pitch…she told me herself once that she'd never experienced such passion before!_

**You think a few golden moments of passion equals her considering you her soul mate? Fuck it all, Draco, one kiss is not going to throw the cosmos into your favor! Take my advice and leave in a dignified manner before you manage to humiliate yourself in front of everyone…especially her.**

Draco backed away, nearly stumbling over a chair in his haste. He could feel the bile rising in his throat as he watched Hermione squeal ecstatically and hug everyone around her with unbridled joy. Why hadn't he ever noticed how perfect she was during the last seven years? All he'd ever seen was the frizzy, unkempt hair, her slightly larger than normal teeth, her blood status… So much time lost just because he'd blindly followed and upheld his father's bullshit beliefs. Why did he have to fall in love with her now? Now, when she was probably flipping through the pages of their history and remembering all the foul things he'd ever said and done to her?

_Leave her, Draco. You've done enough._

With the words "leave her" ringing loudly in his ears, Draco turned away to break off from the crowd when he felt a hand on his shoulder. Keeping his stare locked on the floor as he pivoted to meet the owner of the hand, he mumbled in a choked voice, "Yeah? What is it?"

"You don't really think I'm going to let you walk away, do you?"

Draco's heart stopped. He slowly lifted his head and found himself facing a red-eyed Hermione.

"Why are you trying to leave, Draco?" she asked softly.

Draco nervously licked his lips, aware of how everyone was watching him and Hermione both silently and intently. "You remember everything now, Hermione." It nearly killed him to say her name for perhaps one of the final times. "You now know everything about me. Nothing's going to change from before."

She took a deep breath and clutched at the front of his shirt. "You idiot. You promise to never leave me, and this is how you fulfill your promise? By deserting me?"

Draco wanted so badly to believe what he hoped she was saying, but he decided to take up masochism and ruin his own dreams. "Hermione, I'm Draco Malfoy. The boy who called you a 'mudblood' over a thousand times, who once said that he wished the basilisk would kill you, who left your best friend petrified and with a broken nose on the train…"

"So what do you want me to do," Hermione asked fiercely, sounding close to tears. "Slap you here in front of everyone, tell you I hate you, and walk all over your heart to leave you here, trampled and destroyed?"

"It's what I deserve," he answered miserably, unable to look into her eyes any longer. This was it, this was where she would drop her hands and step away, forever renouncing whatever kind of infatuation she had for him. It was all going to be over in a matter of seconds. For the first time, Draco thought that maybe loving someone was worse than never having loved at all.

Instead, Hermione jerked down on his shirt, causing him to fall on top of her, yet somehow land with his lips on hers. She kissed him hard, doing things with her mouth that Draco had never known someone to do before. Her fingers buried themselves in his messy, uncombed hair, and he unthinkingly pushed her head up with his hands to give her neck support. Suddenly, he recalled her wounds and reluctantly extracted himself from her hold.

As if she'd read his mind, she growled, "To hell with the curse." Then she leaned over to kiss him, this time very gently and sweetly. When she finished, she gazed into his silver eyes and said firmly, "You deserve me, Draco. And don't even bother arguing. You and I are meant for each other, and you damn well know it!"

Somewhere far off in the corner of the universe, Blaise, Harry, Ron, and a few others began laughing from shock and incredulity, but Draco had no time to deal with them. Now he only had eyes for the girl – no - _woman _standing in front of him who had, beyond a shadow of a doubt, brought all the meaning and purpose back into what he was prepared to deem the most pathetic existence in the history of mankind.

"Draco?" Hermione said, smiling and prodding him with her finger. "I don't know if I mentioned this or not, but I love you."

Draco's grin stretched from ear to ear as he leaped forward, wrapped his arms around Hermione's waist, lifted her up, and jubilantly swung her around. After he set her down, he brushed his lips against hers and said, "You know something, Hermione Granger? I think I love you, too."

They locked lips again, engaging in a stormy battle of passion play.

"They really enjoy doing that, don't they?" Blaise chuckled as he watched his best friend completely drop all defenses and overpower Hermione.

Ginny grabbed Blaise and hummed suggestively, "How about it, Zabini? Care to try what they're doing?"

"With pleasure," Blaise growled as he grabbed the redhead and made out with her next to a very uncomfortable-looking Professor Snape.

And then, for the fourth time that afternoon, Draco and Hermione separated, both breathing heavily and lost in one another's eyes. Hermione was still wrapped in her body bandages, her hair mussed, and part of her head still covered in the thin bandage for her forehead. She had a few scrapes on one cheek, and her brown eyes were abnormally shiny. She was wearing the incredibly unfashionable hospital wing bottoms (a grotesque, sickly green), and there was absolutely no makeup anywhere on her face.

Draco was convinced he had never seen anything so perfect.

They stayed there, unspeaking and simply grinning sappily at each other, when Hermione giggled and came close to him yet _again._ "I don't think I could ever get tired of this."

Draco smirked at her and stepped forward. "Well, then," he murmured seductively. "I don't see why we can't continue."

She closed her eyes and inclined her head towards him, but just before his lips met her irresistibly swollen ones, she opened her eyes and said, "Draco?"

"Hmm, yes?"

"Could you do me a favor?"

He quirked an eyebrow at her, waiting to hear what she'd demand.

"Do you mind if I borrow that Linda's Lip Lover thing?"

Draco's laugh rumbled all the way through her body as they stood entwined, dragon and lioness, the Slytherin Prince and the Gryffindor Princess - together, as one flawless entity.

…because some things are just meant to be.

...

First and foremost, I would like to thank all my readers for having kept me motivated to somehow finish this project! I could have never done without your support. Then, I would like to send out a grand shout-out to all my friends who incessantly told me my story was amazing and demanded that I complete what I had started. THANKS, GUYS! And lastly, I would like to thank my brain which is about the size of a very healthy and robust orange. Brain, you have done wonders for my writing and I shall never forget what you have done for me. –sniffle- That is all.

Anyways, yes, this story is finished. I actually do have an inkling about what I want to write about next, so if you feel like it, visit my profile after a few weeks! Oh, yeah, by the way, it's going to be another Dramione. I promise to try to make it as original as I can (all these darned talented writers here have stolen away all the good ideas), and I hope to see you all again in a short time.

Thank you, thank you, and thank you a thousand more times! Have a PHENOMENAL new year!

- Dramione96


	16. NewsUpdate!

**NEWS!**

1. Thank you to all of my readers and reviewers! You were great and very helpful with your encouragement, praise, and criticism. I look forward to seeing you all around much more often for my other projects, which brings me to point two…

2. As of TODAY, June 30th: I have started a new fanfic called "Against All Odds". Please go to my profile link to the story and have a look at it (four chapters up now!). Yes, it is Dramione. =) If you have any questions or novel ideas, please message me! Also, for the aforementioned new story, I have created a poll - tell me what sort of ending you'd like, and I'll see what I can do about it! =)

SEE YOU ALL SOON!

Of course, if you haven't yet, then review for this story as well! Those things are incredibly heart-warming. -wink wink. Love you guys!


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